A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book One
by JellyBean30
Summary: A Housian adaptation of Shrek. As the title suggests, its House & Cameron, also a little Wilson & Cuddy. Rated T. Fun Fun Fun Plenty of HouseCammy goodness to come!
1. Once Upon a Time

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**1 of 18  
**Co-Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

A/N: (JB) Many months ago, a crazy friend of ours from the Fox Forum suggested a House/Shrek cross over story. Once we really thought about it, we realized what a perfect fit this story is for House & Cameron. And so we twisted it a little, and then a little more and then a little more after that to try and keep the House gang in character but still follow the basic Shrek story line. At any point during the story if you can't follow what's going on, ask! I promise to answer all your questions! (JellyBean30)

_**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron**_

_**Once upon a time, in the ancient Kingdom of Gotham, New York, there dwelt a beautiful princess with long golden hair.  
Our princess, a doctor, was an immunologist of note, but she bore a curse of the most fearsome kind.**_

_**She was zealously guarded in her penthouse lab, by a man-eating creature,  
The Evil Dragon Queen Ruler of Dewey Screwem Pharmaceuticals. **_

_**Many a great healer strove and failed to rescue our princess from her piteous fate.  
And so she remained to follow her quest, a search for a cure for the scourge of our time.  
Lupus, the slyest affliction known to mankind.**_

_**Her wretched enchantment, this hideous spell, could only be shattered by one noble man.  
The moment they kissed, she would finally be free, and the selfhood of her true love would at last be revealed.**_

_**The years passed, she awaited and prayed for the arrival of her knight who never came.  
But then one day … **_

oOoOo

_**Chapter 1: Once Upon A Time**_

"**Who writes this crap? … **_**Lupus?... **_**Don't they know it's **_**never**_** Lupus?" **

"**WWWHHHOOOOSSSSSSHHHHHHH GLUG GLUG GLUG GURGLE GURGLE"**

"_Lupus?_ … This story_ sucks_!"  
House's rant was only _slightly _masked by the sound of his flushing toilet.  
"But the pictures are _really_ cool … especially that one of the tower where they've locked up the beautiful blonde princess."

He slammed the book shut and cast it aside on his way to the sink, never giving it a second thought as he started his day.

The fairy tale floated gently through the air.  
Stardust streamed as its wake, until it came to rest in a hamper filled with monster truck magazines and medical journals.  
And there it remained, this magical book, glowing softly in the dawn's early light as it patiently awaited its master's return.

oOoOo

"James? James? Is that you?"  
Wilson stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of the voice from his past.

"Douglas? Douglas Howe? I can't believe it!" The grey that peppered Howe's sandy brown hair only enhanced his rugged good looks.

The two friends embraced warmly. "Let me look at you Jimmy. Did you discover the fountain of youth? You haven't aged a day since we graduated from med school."

Wilson laughed. "Where's the time gone? I heard that you gave up your practice and went to work for a drug company."

"Yep, but not just _any_ drug company. I'm the VP of Sales for Dewey Screwem Pharmaceuticals," Howe said with pride.

Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "Dewey Screwem? I'm impressed."

"Thanks. How about you, Jimmy? What are you up to these days?"

"Me? I'm the Head of Oncology here at PPTH."

"Congratulations. And how's House? I was sorry to hear about his infarction. Do you ever hear from him?"  
The thought of House brought a smile to Howe's face.

"All the time. He lives in Princeton. He used to be the head of Diagnostic Medicine here, but he's gone back into research."

"Infectious disease?" questioned Howe.

"Yes and no. House's research centres on vector-borne infectious diseases that are caused by protozoan parasites. His ultimate goal is to create a malaria vaccine, but while he was studying _Plasmodium_ parasites, specifically _Plasmodium_ falciparum and _Plasmodium _vivax, he stumbled on a potential cure for Lupus."

"Well, malaria meds have certainly been used to treat Lupus for some time. That would be a phenomenal breakthrough. It's funny you should mention Lupus … NSAIDs are our biggest seller."

"Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs? I believe it. Hey, we've got a lot of catching up to do. Why don't we talk in comfort? The sunroom has great chairs!"

oOoOo

House stumbled sleepily into his bedroom, dry-swallowed two Vicodin from the pill bottle on his night table and dressed for work as he did every day … in blue jeans, a vintage rock tee shirt, a button-down oxford and the trendiest Nikes to hit the market.

He headed for the kitchen, stopping only to lift his cane off the door frame where it hung while he slept.

"Would you care for your morning coffee, Dr. House?"

House chuckled at the cultured British accent he used every day for his role as the coffee pot's ventriloquist. _God, I crack myself up …_

"Don't mind if I do, Mr. Coffee …"  
"Very good, sir."

House poured the steaming java into his favourite red mug and searched his barren cupboards for something to eat.  
_Nothing there …I guess I'll have to buy some groceries today.  
_He opened the fridge and grabbed the only two items it contained – a carton of cream and a pizza box.  
_Well, it's a_ _good thing I can drink my coffee black, _he thought, casting the empty container aside.

House nuked the lone piece of leftover pizza in the microwave and eyed the pile of unopened mail that sat on his kitchen table.

"Junk, junk, bill, junk, bill, bill, bill … ", he muttered as he sorted, "… speaking of bills, I'd better finish my report for Vogler so he knows what he's paying for."

As he swallowed the last bite of his pizza, the doorbell rang.  
_Aw, give me a break_ … _go away … I wish people would just leave me alone …_

House was never in a good mood at the best of times and the thought of having to spend his day shopping and doing paperwork, when he wanted to be in the lab, did nothing to lift his spirits.

And now a visitor?  
It was the last straw, as far as House was concerned. He stomped to the elevator, rode down to the first floor and unlocked his front door to find a balding, middle-aged man on his doorstep.

"Dr. House? I'm Rodney."

House looked at Rodney with a blank expression on his face.  
"And that should interest me because?" he snarled.

"Don't you remember me? I'm Rodney … from Securatron. I have my crew with me. We're here to install your signage, upgrade your security system and paint your parking lot."

House's scowl morphed into a smile.  
_This day might not be so bad, after all…_

oOoOo

"Yep, those NSAIDs bought me a nice house, a Mercedes and more goodies than I care to brag about. I'm on the fast track for a partnership too!" Doogie reached into his pocket and pulled out a Tiffany business card case.

"Just think, one day the name on this card will read,  
Dewey Screwem & Howe Pharmaceuticals … it has a nice ring, don't you think?"

_Dewey Screwem & Howe? I __**won't**__ hurt his feelings …_

"It does at that," fibbed Wilson.

"Here, take my card and here's an extra one for Greg. You can give it to him the next time you see him. Maybe we could all get together sometime soon?"

"I'd like that, Doogie … so would House.  
So you never did say, what brings you to PPTH?"

"I have a meeting with your hospital administrator, Lord Vogler."  
His reply surprised Wilson. "Really? How do you know him?"

"Oh he owns the …"  
Suddenly a large, ominous shadow stretched across the room.

"HOWE!" bellowed Vogler.  
"Lord Vogler …" Howe cowered as he rose, afraid to look Vogler in the eyes.

"Dr. Howe, Dr. Wilson. I take it you two know each other?" he said, his booming voice echoing through the deserted room.

"Yes sir. We went to med school together, along with Dr. House. I was just about to tell Dr. Wilson that you _own _the house next to my parents' summer home in the Hamptons."

Wilson studied Vogler and Howe intently.

"Yes, that's right. That's where we first met. How are Angela and David?"  
"Good sir."

Howe breathed a sigh of relief. He'd recovered well.  
Or so he thought...

"Well, why don't you fill me in on what your folks have been up to? We can talk in my office."

"Certainly sir."  
Howe shook Wilson's hand. "James, it was great seeing you again. Say hello to House for me."

"I will. Bye Doug."

_Angela and David aren't Doug's parents' names … what's going on?_

Howe followed Vogler into his office and shut the door.

"Sit down, Howe," ordered Vogler.  
"Just what did you tell Dr. Wilson about my company?"

"Dewey Screwem? Oh nothing sir, I didn't let on that you own it, if that's what you're worried about," Howe said casually.

Vogler slapped his large hand on his desk and glared at Howe.  
"If I hadn't stopped you, you would have sung like a canary."

"Oh n-n-no sir. Jimmy and I were j-j-just talking shop – mostly about Lupus actually. He told me about House's malaria research, how it led to his breakthrough and all, and I bragged about how well our NSAIDs were doing."

"Oh, is that all … I misunderstood Howe," Vogler said sweetly.  
His angelic face contorted with rage.  
His eyes bulged, his nostrils flared as he loomed over Howe's quivering form.

Vogler folded his lumbering body and bent next to Howe's ear.

"If you _ever_… I repeat, _ever _…breathe one word of my association with Dewey Screwem Pharmaceuticals to another living soul, I'll hunt you down, grind you into little tiny pieces and feed you like kibble to House's laboratory rats!"

"Do I make myself clear, Dr. Howe?"

"Y-Y-Yes s-s-sir."  
"Good. You may go. Oh, and Howe?"

"**YOU'RE FIRED!!"**

Howe ran from the room and Vogler picked up his phone.

"Marjorie? Get me Warner …  
I don't care if she's taking a deposition in Gotham City …  
I want her _here_, _in my office_, by the time I get back from lunch!!"

Vogler leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin as he pondered his next move.

_What should I do?  
Wilson's no fool … he'll put two and two together in no time at all.  
He's __**got**__ to go. But how can I force him to resign?_

Just then, Vogler caught sight of a buxom blonde nurse leaving the out-patients clinic.

A psychotic leer spread across his face as he watched Cindy Palmer walk towards the elevators.

_God, how I'd love to pet those puppies … What man wouldn't …?_

_What man indeed …_

**_...Daisyb10_**


	2. A Walking Talking Wilson

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**2 of 18  
**Co-Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 2: A Walking Talking Wilson**_

"_Hurry up_, get that door open!"  
"I'm _trying,_ it's not working!"  
"Here, _you_ give it a try …"  
"Why me?"  
"You're probably better at this than I am."  
"Why? Do you think burglary's in my genes?"  
"Well, it _sure_ isn't in mine!"  
"Quit bickering, you two!"

"**Here, let me help you … I have a key …"**

The perpetrators froze in fear, afraid to face the man who hovered behind their backs.

"**Put your hands behind your head … Turn around … Slowly ..."**

"_House! It's you! Thank God!" _said the quivering woman. "It's good to see you again, after so many years."

House slowly lowered his cane to the ground. "_Nurse Brenda_ … how I've missed you. _NOT!_ What's the scoop with ebony and ivory here?" House questioned.

"Dr. House, may I introduce Dr. Followes and Dr. Backman, our new Diagnostic fellows. Lord Vogler asked us to come and see you. We're very interested to learn more about your Lupus research."

"Put down your hands." House glared at the young doctors, and then turned his attention to Brenda.

"Ever the conniving witch, eh Brenda? Except for all that grey hair, you haven't changed a bit. Do they still keep you shackled to the Clinic nursing station?" snarked House.

"Actually no. Lord Vogler promoted me to Head of Nursing. I'm his right-hand woman, so to speak," Brenda cooed.

House smirked as he eyed her from head to toe. "I _bet_ you are. Do you assist other parts of his body as well?"

"_Very funny,_ House. It's been … what … five years since you left? It's a pity the years haven't been kinder to you, you misanthropic old sod," she hissed.

"Thank you. Now that we have all of the pleasantries out of the way, tell me. Why were you trying to break into my house? Oh, and by the way," House said, turning his attention to the two men, "tell Dr. Chase that he's neglected a very important part of your training. You'll never be good diagnosticians if you don't learn how to pick a lock properly. You two are _pathetic!_ And you have the gall to call yourselves doctors." House shook his head.

"Honestly House, we weren't trying to break in. We just wanted to see you. I rang the bell, but when you didn't answer, we thought you were down in your lab," continued Brenda.

"Yea, right … _everyone lies_. I bet Chase never taught you that _either!_"

House unlocked the door and walked past Brenda.

"_You_ … little quacks … make yourselves useful. Get my groceries out of the side-car and carry them up to the kitchen. It's on the second floor. Oh, and while you're at it, you can put them away. There's plenty of room."

House grinned as he watched the two men lugging the heavy bags up the stairs.  
There was _no way_ he was going to point out the elevator if they were too stupid to notice it.

"Look Brenda, I don't know what you're after, but my lips are sealed. I send Vogler his quarterly reports. In fact, I'm preparing another one right now. He knows everything there is to know about my research."

House smirked as he thought, _Of course, the report I'm preparing is for the fourth quarter of 2006, __**not**__ 2007 … so I'm a little behind … __**so what **__…_

Nurse Brenda decided to try a different tack. "You've got it all wrong House. We're not here to pry. Actually, Lord Vogler thought that we might be able to help you, now that your clinical trials are so close."

"Clinical trials? Hmmm … I don't recall saying anything about clinical trials,"  
House countered.

"All done, Dr. House," Followes said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "That side-car sure holds a lot of beer!"

"Yea, it's great, isn't it? Did you put everything in the fridge that needs to be kept cold?"

"Yes, sir. And all the frozen stuff, like the pizzas and TV Dinners are in the freezer," added Backman.

"Good! Now the three of you …GET OUT! No, wait! I have a much better idea. You said that you wanted to help, right?"

Nurse Brenda nodded. "Yes, we do."

"Well, I could _really_ use some volunteers to try my new Lupus treatment … some human ones. My lab rats are great, but they're no substitute for the real thing, don't you agree? There shouldn't be _too_ many side-effects … but hey, you never know until you try," House said, adopting the demeanor of a mad scientist. "Let's go to the lab. We can start right away! Who wants to go first? Brenda? How about you?"

House roared with laughter as they bolted to their car and speed off into the darkening night. He locked the door and stepped into his elevator, lost in thought.

_What a bunch of idiots!  
But what's Vogler up to? … Why all the interest in my clinical trials? …  
I never told him they're about to begin …  
Wilson is the only one that knows. _

oOoOo

"Mr. Thompson, I'll be checking out today."  
"But Dr. Wilson, after all these years. Has something happened?" asked the hotel manager.

"Yes, something has. Something terrible," Wilson said.  
His face was ashen with grief.

"Where will you go? Should I forward your mail?"  
Wilson offered House's business card.

"You can reach me here. I'll be staying with my friend, Dr. House … indefinitely."

Thompson shook the doctor's hand and watched him leave, then turned his attention to the business card he was holding.

"**CRIPPLED …?"**

oOoOo

Tears flowed from Wilson's eyes faster than he could wipe them away.  
He sped through Princeton, past the hospital, and out into the countryside, amazed, as always, at the dramatic changes he saw as he crossed over the Princeton Canal.

It was as if he had entered another country. The terrain became swampy and houses were scarce. Except for the occasional gas station and one small trailer park, the landscape was completely desolate.

"Talk about living on the wrong side of the tracks …" muttered Wilson,  
"_This_ is definitely the wrong side of the Princeton Canal."

When PPTH first opened, a satellite clinic was erected near the Plainsboro Marsh. The state-of-the-art facility was located in, what city planners had assured the board was destined to be, the next great suburb of Princeton.

But things went terribly wrong.

While the marsh was a haven for flora and fauna, it teemed with mosquitoes in the spring and summer months. The land was sodden for most of the year and builders quickly abandoned the site.

Their dream, the "Village-By-The-Marsh", was never meant to be.  
They knew no one would ever want to live there.

No one, that is, but House.

oOoOo

When Lord Vogler was appointed administrator of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, House knew his days were numbered.

The two fought constantly … their battles escalated.  
Vogler punished House by increasing his clinic hours and despite House's love for his Diagnostic Department, he was desperate to leave.

One day, while riding on his motorcycle, House came across the abandoned clinic. He was inexplicably drawn to the building and its pastoral setting.

He peered in the windows, recalling his tour of the site several years ago.  
The clinic occupied the first floor, office and kitchen space, the second, and its lab was located in the basement. A generous-sized elevator connected all three levels for complete accessibility.

House smiled. _This is it … It's the perfect location for __**CRIPPLED **_  
He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and although he would never admit it, his prayers had been answered.

After gathering several vials of water from the marsh, House returned to the hospital and surreptitiously tested his samples each night, when Vogler had left for the day.

He orchestrated his departure with relative ease.  
House and Vogler's mutual desire for House to leave was the only thing they had ever agreed upon.

In exchange for House's resignation as Head of Diagnostics, he would retain his tenure and was given complete autonomy to begin his research; the hospital would fund his work and pay his salary.

It was an elegant solution that reaped an unexpected reward.

Lord Vogler had little interest in House's malaria research, until increased public awareness of the dreaded disease made it a _cause celebre_.

Donations poured into the hospital.  
House ceased to be a liability.  
Vogler was happy.  
The Board of Directors was ecstatic and House…?

Well, House was finally content.

oOoOo

"Ah, here it is … Marshland Drive."

Wilson turned onto a freshly paved roadway that curved through a grove of weeping willows. "It looks like House has been up to something," he muttered, spotting some signs up ahead. Every 100 feet, a new one revealed itself.

**BEWARE OF OGRE! **

DANGER! MAD SCIENTIST AHEAD!

NO HOUSE CALLS!

KEEP OUT! THIS MEANS YOU, MORON!

GUARD WOMBATS ON DUTY!  


As he circled in front of the building, Wilson stopped by an imposing granite boulder that graced the entranceway. Floodlights illuminated its bronzy plaque.

**CRIPPLED**

**Center for Research on Infectious Pandemics, Plagues and**

**Laboratory of Exotic Diseases**

**1000 Marshland Drive**

"Impressive, my friend … impressive. I hope you're ready for a roommate …"

oOoOo

House surveyed his kitchen with great satisfaction, amazed at what a good job Followes and Backman had done of organizing his groceries. "I might have to invite them back. My kitchen has _never_ looked this good. Maybe there _is_ hope for them after all. I could even invite Wilson over … now that I have something to eat ..."

A frantic knock on the door jolted House out of his reverie.

"Who the hell could that be? It's almost six o'clock …" he grumbled, as he limped down the stairs and peeked through the peephole. "Wilson?"

"Hey, I was just thinking about …"  
House was shocked when he opened the door.

"What are you doing here? What's _wrong_? You look _terrible_!"  
Wilson stood on his doorstep, his suitcase in hand.

"_**House, please help me … My life … It's been ruined …"**_

****

****

**_...Daisyb10_**


	3. What Are You Doing in My Lab?

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**3 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 3: What Are You Doing In My Lab?**_

"Of course I'll help you Wilson, you know that. C'mon in."  
"Thanks House." Wilson carried in his suitcase and stepped back outside. "I'll get the rest of my things."

"There's more?" House muttered, watching Wilson make three more trips to his car, "Did you bring everything you own?"  
"As a matter-of-fact, yes. I moved out of the hotel … for good."

"Is it your ex-wives? Are they after you for more money? What happened?"  
"It has nothing to do with them House … it's Vogler. Listen, I'll tell you everything, but I just need to change my clothes and relax for a bit. Is that okay?"

House looked at Wilson. He knew his questions would have to wait.

"Sure it is. Let's take your things upstairs. I've had one of the larger offices remodeled into a second bedroom. At least you won't have to sleep on the couch like you did at my old apartment. Say, are you hungry?"

"I'm starved. Order whatever you want, I'll buy," Wilson offered.  
"No need. I'll cook. I went grocery shopping today … I've got lots of food."

"House, I-I-I don't know what to say … I'm impressed, amazed … th-thank you."  
Wilson brushed a lone tear from his eye.

"It'll be okay, Wilson," House said, giving him an awkward hug, "I'll start dinner while you unpack."

oOoOo

"Something smells good." The thought of food brought a smile to Wilson's face. "The bedroom's very comfortable House. You've done a lot of work since the last time I was here."

"Well, I didn't do the work myself, but I planned everything," House replied, throwing two strip loins into the frying pan. "Did you notice the new signs?"

"I did. They're impressive – and intimidating."  
"Good. That's the look I was going for."

House grinned as he continued, "And instead of wheelchairs, I had the crew from Securatron paint canes on all of the parking spots, and the signs say, 'CRIPPLED Parking - By Permit Only'. I thought that was a nice play on words.  
I'm making steak and mashed potatoes, by the way. Is that all right with you?"

"Sounds perfect. Do you want me to make a salad?"  
"A salad? _Ewwwww._ You know how I feel about green food."

Wilson smiled. "Silly me. I don't know how I could have suggested such a thing."  
"That's okay … you're upset. Dinner's ready. Let's dig in!"

oOoOo

"The steak is cooked to perfection, House."  
"Thanks. Do you want another beer?"

"Please … hey, guess who I saw this morning?"  
"Who?" asked House, returning with their drinks.

"Doogie Howe."  
"I don't think I've seen Howe since med school … what's he up to?

Wilson reached into his pocket and handed House, Howe's business card.  
"He's VP of Sales for Dewey Screwem? Interesting … they're into Lupus meds, big time." House said thoughtfully. "What was he doing at the hospital?"

"He had a meeting with Vogler." Wilson took another swig of beer.  
"Vogler? Why would Vogler bother seeing a glorified sales rep? It doesn't make sense …"

"Apparently, it was a social call. Vogler knows Doug's parents. But do you know what was weird? Vogler asked after them by the wrong names."  
"Something's not right …"

"I know. Anyway, Doogie is doing really well. He hopes to become a partner there soon."  
House guffawed. "_Dewey, Screwem and Howe?_ Please tell me you're joking, Wilson."

"I'm serious. I don't think he's caught on, but I wasn't going to be the one to burst his bubble. Anyway, he asked after you and suggested that we get together sometime soon. What do you think?"

"Sure we can. I've always liked Howe."

oOoOo

"Do you want to check out what's on the tube? I'll just put these dishes in the dishwasher and be right out … there's some snacks on the coffee table," House directed, with an evil smile on his face.

"_**EWWWWW … YUCK ….HOUSE …."**_

House doubled over with laughter when he heard Wilson's cries of disgust.  
"Is something wrong, Jimmy?" he asked innocently as he headed into the living room and joined Wilson on the sofa.

"House, you've been living in a swamp too long! How can you eat these vile things? They're disgusting! I think I'm going to throw up … _EYEBALLS?"_

"They're yummy," he said, popping one into his mouth, "and I have some brain munchies, millipedes and these lollypops are super cool – they have beetles imbedded in the centre, see?"

House watched Wilson's face become paler and paler as it began to take on a distinct greenish twinge.

"Relax Wilson, they're just _candy …"_ House bit an eyeball in half and showed it to him. "See … its bubble gum and the rest are gummies. I found this really neat candy store today in Princeton today. What would you like to try?"

"Nothing right now House … I'll just let my stomach settle, thank you very much," said a disgruntled Wilson.

"Suit yourself … I was just trying to cheer you up. So, do you feel up to telling me what happened with Vogler?"  
"Now's as good a time as any, but I warn you, it's not a pretty story."

Wilson took a sip of his beer and brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to summon up the courage to relate his tale.

oOoOo

"Well, it all started this afternoon. I had lunch, made my rounds and was working on my appointments when I got a call from Vogler's secretary telling me to come to his office as soon as I was finished for the day. My 3:30 cancelled, so I went to see Vogler. He _wasn't_ alone. He was sitting at his desk, flanked by Nurse Brenda and another woman I'd never met. He introduced her as his attorney, Stacy Warner. I nodded at Brenda and shook hands with Ms. Warner. She was a stunning brunette with cold, ruthless eyes. I kid you not, House … she sent shivers down my spine."

"Go on …" House urged gently.

"Vogler said that he'd received some very disturbing news. A nurse at PPTH, Cindy Palmer, had talked with Nurse Brenda.  
Just so you know, she's Head of Nursing now," clarified Wilson.

"I know, I had a visit from her this morning and she mentioned that.  
Cindy Palmer … Cindy Palmer … I remember her when she was a student nurse. Pretty girl, not too bright, blonde with big …" House smirked.

"House, stop it!" shouted Wilson.  
"What? So she has big …"

"I said _stop it_, House. Her big breasts are what this is all about," Wilson said with frustration.  
"I don't understand …" began House.

"Just listen."  
"Sorry."

"House, Cindy has filed a sexual harassment complaint against me. Shall I just touch on the highlights? She said that I leer at her, stare at her cleavage, pepper my conversations with sexual innuendos and have deliberately brushed against her breasts on numerous occasions."

House chuckled. "You? That sounds like something_ I_ would do, but you, Wilson? Impossible!"

"It's not funny House. They're deadly serious.Vogler's lawyer said I had two choices. If I resigned quietly, this would go no further. But if I fought them, they would press formal charges with the police on behalf of Cindy. Warner vowed that by time she finished with me, win or lose, my reputation, my career, and my life, would be ruined."

Wilson rested his head in his hands.  
"It was a simple choice to make. I _had_ to resign. "

"And your patients?" asked House.

"Vogler's not going to announce my resignation until my replacement arrives. He's talking to Kupersmith at Mass General. In the meantime, my staff will cover for me."

"Geez Wilson … you can't let him get away with that! You've got to fight it!"  
House said, becoming more incensed by the minute.

"But how, House? You tell me how I can win against Vogler … he's holding all the cards! How can I fight him?" yelled Wilson.

House put an arm around Wilson's shoulder.  
"I don't know yet … but we'll find a way. I promise."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what else to say.  
Suddenly House sat up, trying to be as cheerful as he could for Wilson.

"Let's not think about this anymore for tonight. Let's have some fun!  
We can stay up late, swappin' manly stories and in the mornin', you can wake up early and make us some of your special macadamia nut pancakes!"

"I think there's a monster truck rally on the tube," Wilson said, brightening.  
"You know what I always say …" House began, with a grin on his face.

"Grave Digger _never_ disappoints!" chimed in Wilson.

oOoOo

_When I was young  
I never needed anyone  
And making love was just for fun  
Those days are gone_

_What __**is**__ that caterwauling? _House pulled the covers over his head hoping to block out the noise. _It can't be someone's stereo, I'm out in the middle of nowhere …_

He'd just started to drift off to sleep when it began again, only this time, it was painfully louder.

_Livin' alone  
I think of all the friends I've known  
When I dial the telephone  
Nobody's home._

House shot out of bed and stumbled down the hall to Wilson's bedroom.

_**All by myself  
Don't wanna be  
All by myself  
A-n-y-m-o-r-e**_

He stood in the doorway, watching Wilson wailing away into an imaginary microphone.  
"If you don't shut the **hell** up, Wilson, you'll be living alone faster than you can say Celine Dion. What on _earth_ are you doing?" yelled House.

"I'm singing … I thought it might help me work through my pain …"

"You're going to be in a lot more pain, if I hear any more of this discordant drivel! It's a wonder I put up with you … you're a terrible singer!" House said, continuing his rant.

"Wow. Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest."

"Listen Wilson. Take a look at me. What am I?"  
"Uh … really tall?" asked a confused Wilson.

"Well yes, I'm tall, but that's not what I meant. I'm a loner. I like my privacy and I like peace and quiet. If you're going to stay here, you have to know what you getting into. I'll admit I'm not an easy person to live with. I don't like people and they don't like me and the fact that they call me an ogre doesn't bother me a bit. Does it bother you?" House asked.

"Not at all. That's one of the things I've always liked about you House; that you don't give a damn about what other people think. I wish I could be more like you sometimes …" Wilson said sadly.

House replied quietly, "No you don't, Wilson … you don't really mean that."

"I like you, House … always have, always will. If I promise to stop singing, can I stay?" he asked, with a hint of a smile.

"Sure Wilson. But go to sleep, okay?"  
"I will, House. Goodnight."

oOoOo

House awoke in the morning to the aroma of macadamia nut pancakes wafting through the air and soon was enjoying a piping hot breakfast courtesy of Wilson.

"Now _that's _something I could get used to every morning! Great breakfast, Wilson … thanks," he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "Wilson … Wilson, did you hear me? I said thanks for the great breakfast."

Wilson had been staring out the window absentmindedly, but turned to respond.  
"Thanks, House. Sorry. I just thought I heard a strange sound from outside. Like a diesel engine idling."

"An engine? I'm not expecting any deliveries." House went to a window overlooking his driveway. "It's not your imagination, Wilson, there's an ambulance bus parked outside my front door!"

They went downstairs and opened the door just as the bus driver was about to knock.

"You Dr. House?" the driver asked.  
"Yea, so what's it to you?" House snarked.

"Gotta delivery for you. A busload of patients for your clinic."  
"Clinic? There must be some mistake. There's no clinic here, this is a research lab. You want PPTH," explained Wilson.

"Nope. I just came from there. Lord Vogler sent me over. He's closing down the clinic at PPTH and referring all of the patients to_ you_."  
"You've got to be insane! There's no way …" began House.

"Look Doc, if you've got a problem, take it up with Vogler. Here's the deal. I'm leaving you this busload of patients. I'll be back at noon and four with more, and I'll collect all the ones you've treated. My final pick-up is at 8 pm tonight."

"We can't possibly …" House interjected.  
"Save it for someone who cares House. Everyone off the bus!" the driver shouted.

"I'm going to see Vogler …"  
"I wouldn't bother, if I were you. He said something about having meetings all day … everybody off? Good.  
Have a nice day, Doc … I'll be back at noon."

House and Wilson watched helplessly as the waiting room filled with patients.

"I don't believe it, Wilson. What's Vogler trying to do? Shut down my lab?" asked an incredulous House.

"I don't think 'trying' is the right word, House. It may be a done deal. But in the meantime, I think we should look at these patients," suggested Wilson.

"And do what? Treat them?" asked House.

Wilson's raised eyebrow accompanied his answer.  
"We _are_ stilldoctors, House. C'mon, let's get started."

oOoOo

"Will this day ever end?" moaned House, as he stared at the piles of patient files accumulating on, what was originally intended to be, the clinic's nursing station desk.

"It's not showing any signs of letting up, is it? But on the bright side, that was our four o'clock delivery. There won't be any more patients until tomorrow, " sighed Wilson.

"Tomorrow? There is no_ tomorrow_! I'm _not _giving in to Vogler! The first thing tomorrow, you and I are driving over to PPTH and putting a stop to this!"

"You and I? Oh, House … I'm not so sure I should go along, given what's happened, " said Wilson.  
"Friends stick together Wilson. You're coming with me!" demanded House.

"Well, seeing as you put it that way, okay. Who have we got next?"  
"I don't know. Hey, have you noticed anything weird about these patients?"

"Yea … it's like they're all … or their illnesses are all … they remind me of …" Wilson struggled to try and find the right word.  
"Fairytales?" asked House.

"That's it! That's it exactly! Like those blind triplets …"

"And the lady with sleeping sickness …"  
"And that old toymaker with the little boy … you remember, the kid who needs a nose job."

"I feel like I'm trapped in the twilight zone," House said, shaking his head, "but I'm relieved you see it too."  
"I do," Wilson said, picking up his next patient file. "Ella? Ella?"

"That's me," said a pretty blonde, with two dowdy women limping alongside her, one on each arm.  
"Hi, I'm Dr. Wilson. What seems be the problem?"

"Oh, I don't need a doctor. I'm here with my step-sisters. They're having trouble with their feet. They've been trying on shoes that are too small for them all day, and now they can hardly walk!"

House snorted.

"Okay Ella, why don't the three of you go into Exam Room 1? I'll be with you in a minute."  
"There's another one …" Wilson whispered to House.

"Sick people, which one of you is Doc?" House said, addressing the crowd in the waiting room.  
"That would be me …" House looked around, "down here."

_Dwarfism? _thought House. "How may I help you?" House asked.

"It's my friend, Dopey. He can't talk."  
A smaller dwarf stepped out from behind Doc. "Is he a mute?" asked House.

"Maybe. We don't know. He's either a mute, or just plain stupid. My friends and I would like to know …"  
"Your friends?"

"Yea, my buddies over there on your sofa … Happy, Bashful, Grumpy, Sneezy and Sleepy. Oh and when you're through, Sneezy needs his allergy shots."  
"Right this way …" House said, opening the door to Exam Room 2.

_Why me, Lord … why me …_

oOoOo

"What time is it Wilson?" House asked anxiously.  
"Almost 8 o'clock," replied Wilson.  
"Good, the bus will be here soon."  
"It can't come too soon for me … wait … I see some lights … it's here!"

"Okay, listen up. All of you. It's time to go. The bus is here. Get movin'"  
The crowd pushed through the door, onto the waiting bus … that is all but twenty or so patients that remained glued to their seats in the waiting room.

"C'mon, I said everyone … that includes _you_."

A piggish looking man spoke. "But Doctor House, you haven't treated us yet.  
"And I'm not going to, either."  
"But we have nowhere else to go … who will help us? A-a-aachoo!!" said the sneezing dwarf.  
"That's not my problem, shortie."

"Wilson, get the driver to take them away," House said, in desperation.  
"I tried, House. He'll only take away the ones we've treated. He said he'll be back for the rest of them tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow? You mean they're spending the night?"  
"Looks like it, House."

"Well isn't that just the cherry on top of the cherry!" House thought for a moment, made a phone call and then spoke once more.

"It seems that you _will_ be spending the night here, you … _you fairy tale things_.  
_Do not,_ I repeat, _do not _get too comfortable.  
You have officially worn out your welcome.  
Dr. Wilson and I are going to see Lord Vogler tomorrow morning about getting you out of my lab and back in the PPTH Clinic, where you belong."

Cheers erupted in the waiting room.

"So for tonight, with the exception of my examination rooms, you have access to every room on this floor. _5-For-1 Pizza _will deliver your dinner shortly. The kitchen is over here, the washrooms are down the hall and there are plenty of towels and blankets in the linen closet."

"The basement and second floor are off limits to you. Only Fort Knox has tighter security than CRIPPLED, and if any one of you disobeys me and trips the alarm, _**all **_of you will find yourself camping in the Plainsboro Marsh for the night."

"Do I make myself clear?" House asked, surveying his house guests.  
"Oh yes, Dr. House … Certainly Dr. House …"

"Good. The pizza's here. Enjoy your dinner. Wilson? Let's call it a night."

oOoOo

Wilson fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and House was not too far behind. He limped into the bathroom to get ready for bed and noticed his fairy tale book, glistening in the hamper of the darkened room.

_That's weird … the book's … what … sparkling … glowing …_

House finished his ablutions and retired to the bedroom with the book grasped firmly in his hand.  
He returned to the story from where he'd left off.

_Let's see what happens … I wonder if the princess gets rescued …  
After the day I've had, this story doesn't seem so far-fetched after all … _

_**...Daisyb10**_


	4. Lord Vogler

_**Chapter 4: Lord Vogler**_

"Pharmacist! …Pharmacist! I _know_ you're hiding in here somewhere."

"I'm not hiding, Nurse Brenda, I'm doing my work. We just got a shipment of drugs in; they need to be logged and stored securely. That's why I'm in the Pharmaceutical Storage Vault. Make sense?"

"Don't get lippy with me, Pharmacist," Brenda hissed, closing the door behind her. "It's time we had a little talk."

Brenda threw herself at the slight man, sending him flying to the floor. She quickly flipped him over on his stomach, sat on his back and grabbed his right leg, immobilizing him with a brutal ankle lock.

"Owww … you're going to break my leg," he cried.  
"That's the idea, you moron," chuckled Brenda. "Now the ball's in your court, Pharmacist. The sooner you dish the dirt on House, the sooner I'll let you go."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh c'mon, what kind of a fool do you take me for?" Brenda pulled his foot closer to her chest, smiling at his cries of pain. "I know you're his buddy and that you deliver his Vicodin to him at CRIPPLED. You must talk about his research. I want to know how close House is to beginning his clinical trials!"

"Let me go … please … I don't know anything about that, I swear!"  
"LIAR!"

"Well, you know what House says about that … Owww!!"  
"Don't quote Housian philosophy to me Pharmacist ... just tell me what I want to know."

"How's it going, Brenda?" Vogler entered the room, smiling at the sight of his evil henchwoman at work.  
"He needs a bit more persuading, Lord Vogler. He's surprisingly tough for such a puny little guy."

"Well, perhaps if I took your place, I might be able to impress upon Pharmacist just how important his cooperation is to us," sneered Vogler.

"No, no … please don't sit on me Lord Vogler. I'm telling you the truth. House never said anything to me about his clinical trials … I swear …" he wailed. Vogler helped Brenda up, then straddled their trembling victim. As he lowered himself into position, the door to the storage room flew open.

"What the …"  
"Lord Vogler, Lord Vogler …!"

"Yes and who might you be?"  
"I'm Ed, sir, the night janitor."

Vogler rose to his feet, helping Pharmacist up at the same time. "Now you be careful, we don't want you to fall again. You might really hurt yourself the next time," he warned.

"Thank you, sir." Pharmacist limped to a nearby chair, watching Vogler with suspicion as he whispered in Brenda's ear.

"Forget about Pharmacist, we don't need him any more. I've decided to shut down House. The wheels are already in motion. But tell me, is it my imagination, or does that janitor have his pants on backwards?"

"He always wears them that way," she said, "I know … he's very strange."

"We found that mirror you were looking for …" Ed said with glee.  
"Well why didn't you say so. Bring it in … hurry!"

Ed and his assistant grunted as they struggled to maneuver the ornate mirror into position.

"Hang it up on the far wall. Perfect. That will be all Ed, thank you," Vogler said, impatiently waving Ed and his buddy out of the room.  
"Glad I could help, sir."

"Brenda, lock the door."  
Vogler rubbed his hands together with anticipation and addressed the mirror.

"Oh Magic Mirror …"

Vogler, Brenda and Pharmacist watched in awe as the mirror came to life. Crescent-shaped speakers slid out from behind the golden frame and a jovial white face appeared before them.

"Good evening. My name is Magic Mirror. How may I be of assistance?"

"My God … it couldn't be … he looks like …" Pharmacist said, "The Coma Guy." finished Brenda.

"Good evening. I'm Lord Vogler, hospital administrator and supreme ruler of PPTH."  
"No need to introduce yourself, Lord Vogler. (The) delete Magic Mirror knows all."

"All right. Tell me then … Oh Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Is Princeton-Plainsboro not the most perfect kingdom of all?"  
"Well, strictly speaking, Princeton-Plainsboro is _not_ a kingdom, because you are _not_ a king, Lord Vogler."

"Umm hum." Vogler cleared his throat loudly. "I'm sorry … what was that you just said?"  
"Umm … wh-what I meant to say wa-was, that you are not _quite_ a king at this moment, Lord Vogler. But I can help you become one!"

"Go on …"  
"All you need to do to become a king, is to marry a princess."

"A princess? … I like_ that_ idea."  
"But not just any princess, Lord Vogler. A man like you, a powerful hospital administrator, needs a Princess Doctor for his wife."

"A Princess Doctor?"  
"Yes. A Princess Doctor. To truly be the supreme ruler of PPTH, you must also become the Chairman of the Board. And who would make a better ally for you than your beautiful wife, the Dean of Medicine?"

"I like the way you think Magic Mirror. Yes. If my wife was the Dean of Medicine, I could use my husbandly influence to govern her every move. If I control the Dean of Medicine, then I control the board. I'll be Chairman in no time!"

"And a King to boot!"

"It's a perfect plan. But tell me (Thelonius) delete , where might I find a Princess Doctor?"  
Magic Mirror chuckled.

"Leave that up to me, Lord. Sit down and take a load off …"  
Vogler glared at Thelonius as he settled his sizeable backside into a soft leather chair.  
"Umm … s-s-sorry … that was just a broad figure of … uh-oh …"  
"Quit while you're ahead (Thelonius) delete …" warned Vogler.  
"Yes Lord. Thank you."

Magic Mirror straightened his tie and nodded his head. Suddenly the jaunty strains of Herb Alpert's "Tijuana Taxi" filled the room.

Using his best game-show host voice, Magic Mirror began.

"Welcome to 'The Mating Game'. Put your feet up and relax, Lord Vogler, because it's time for you to meet our eligible bachelorette princess doctors who have joined us today.

Bachelorette Princess Doctor number one hails from Port Charles, New York. She's the resident psychiatrist in the Kingdom of General Hospital, an upstanding citizen and loved by all who know her. She busies herself tending to the victims of the encephalitis outbreak in Port Charles and cares for her father, Roger, who is suffering from Alzheimer's Disease.

But don't get me wrong – this ravishing brunette loves to play! Her hobbies include salsa dancing, beach volleyball and a good round of golf every Wednesday afternoon."

"A golfer … that's good." muttered Vogler.

"Please welcome Princess Doctor Lainey Winters." The sound of applause greeted the doctor.

"Bachelorette Princess Doctor number two was born in Boston, but moved out west to a faraway land called Colorado to start her own medical practice. Recently single, this elegant doctor is as headstrong as she is beautiful. As a pioneering feminist, she is admired as a fearless champion of deserving causes and a defender of the rights of oppressed frontier women.

Our frontier babe has a zest for life and enjoys camping, horseback riding and loves to dabble in the occult. A sociable creature, she loves ballroom dancing, gives Tarot card readings for her closest friends, but is also content to curl up with a good game of Solitaire.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let's give it up for Princess Doctor Michaela Quinn."

Vogler, Brenda and Pharmacist joined in the applause.  
_I don't know about her … A feminist? … She won't be easy to control …_

"Bachelorette Princess Doctor number three hails from Chicago. This brilliant immunologist currently resides in Gotham City where she develops Non-steroidal ant-inflammatory drugs at Dewey Screwem Pharmaceuticals for the treatment of Lupus. She devotes all of her spare time to finding a cure for this dreaded disease.

Known for having a strong moral compass, this blonde beauty is as ethical as they come. Although she is drawn to damaged people, she's a fun-loving gal, with a fondness for Jell-O shots and monster truck races. One day she hopes to marry a tall, dark and handsome, misanthropic ogre with a heart of gold.

This girl loves a challenge!

Please welcome Princess Doctor Allison Cameron."

"_A tall, dark and handsome, misanthropic ogre with a heart of gold?  
That describes me to a T!"_

_I didn't know Dr. Cameron was a princess … this is perfect. But she's like that bloody House, spending too much time searching for a cure for Lupus. If I bring her to Princeton it will solve all of my problems. She'll be too busy as the Dean of Medicine to bother with research and when I shut down House, there will be no one as brilliant as either of those two, left to carry on with their work._

_My company will continue to make billions selling NSAIDs, everyone will think that I'm decent and trustworthy because I'm married to such a goody-two-shoes, I'll be a King and best of all, I'll get laid by the lovely Dr. Allison Cameron, every night of the week … _thought Vogler, as a lascivious grin began to spread across his evil face.

Magic Mirror continued. "So, will it be bachelorette number one, bachelorette number two or bachelorette number three?"

"Three, three!!"  
"That was fast."

"I'm a man who knows what he wants, Magic Mirror."

"Very well. Drum roll please …"  
Pharmacist and Nurse Brenda rolled their tongues.

" Lord Vogler, you have chosen Princess Doctor Allison Cameron to be your bride." Everyone applauded his choice.

"She's perfect. All I have to do is find someway to go and …" pondered Vogler.

"Lord Vogler, um … I'm sorry to interrupt," Magic Mirror began nervously, "but I should probably mention the little thing that happens at night."

"I _must_ have her."

"Yes, but after sunset …"

"Silence Magic Mirror! It's settled. I will make Princess Doctor Cameron my queen, and Princeton-Plainsboro will have the perfect king!

_How will I do this? I can't go myself. It's too dangerous. The Dragon Queen will eat me alive and besides, I can't be seen at Dewey Screwem. I need a sacrificial lamb … a doctor. But not just any doctor. He has to be brilliant. I need a man who can lure Dr. Cameron to PPTH. _

"Nurse Brenda, I want you to assemble our finest doctors in the lecture hall tomorrow morning at 9 am sharp." Vogler commanded. "No women. I need a man for this job."  
"Yes, Lord Vogler."

"We will hold a DDX tournament."  
"A DDX tournament, Lord Vogler?" she questioned.

A sinister smile crept across Vogler's face.  
"Let's find out who's the smartest of them all …"

**_...daisyb10_**


	5. The Kingdom of Princeton

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:** 5 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 5: The Kingdom of Princeton-Plainsboro**_

"Well, we're here. The Kingdom of Princeton-Plainsboro. After five years, I'm amazed I remembered the way to Lord Vogler's Castle," quipped House.

"I don't think I can go back in there House, not after everything that's happened."

"You've done _nothing_ to be ashamed of Wilson – and right now Vogler, Nurse Brenda, Cindy and that lawyer of his, are the only ones who know about the allegations. They're not going to get away with it – _I promise you_. Just hold your head high, I'll make this fast."

As they exited the parking garage, House stopped in his tracks, stunned by what he saw.  
"What in the world is that monstrosity?" he asked, pointing at a glass obelisk that rose from, what used to be, the courtyard of PPTH.

"_That_ _monstrosity_, my friend, is 'The King's Tower'."

"You've got to be kidding!" House said, studying the ten-storey structure that was clad in golden glass. It glistened elegantly in the morning sun, but the corners of the tower were what interested House most, flanked as they were, from base to tip, with vertical rows of black tinted windows.

"Tell me something, Wilson. Those corner windows … do you think Vogler's compensating for something?  
A wry smile spread across Wilson's face. "Well, you know what they say House … vertical stripes are _very_ slimming."

The two shared a good laugh as they walked on towards the hospital.

oOoOo

"Hey, wait. Wait up, House."

"C'mon Wilson, don't dawdle. Let's get this over with. Hey, these are new …" House said, admiring the stone lions that guarded the lobby entrance. As he approached, their hinged mouths dropped open and out slid two marionettes atop two tiny stages.

They whirled and clattered, clicked and danced and sang a cheerful song.

_Welcome to Princeton, our perfect town,  
we have some rules, let's lay them down.  
Don't make waves, please stay in line,  
If you do, we'll get along fine._

_Princeton is a perfect place,  
so please keep off of the grass.  
Shine your shoes, brush your teeth,  
and be sure to wipe your... __**face!**_

_Princeton is, Princeton is,  
Princeton is the per-fect place!!!_

A camera shutter clicked and one of the marionettes handed House a Polaroid picture of them both. The stages retracted and the lions' jaws clamped shut once more.

"_Cool_ … should we try it again, Wilson?" House asked eagerly.  
"I think once is enough, don't you? The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of here," replied Wilson, "and remember, we still have patients waiting for us at CRIPPLED."

"Yea, don't remind me," grumbled House, as the entrance doors slid open and they entered the lobby. "It's awfully quiet here … too quiet …"

A pretty student nurse at the clinic nursing station smiled at House and Wilson.

"Good Morning, Dr. Wilson, Sir. Are you here for the meeting?"  
"Good Morning, Amy. What meeting?"

"The one Lord Vogler's holding in the lecture hall. I thought you'd be there already. It's about to begin," she said, with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Thanks for reminding me Amy. We're on our way."

oOoOo

A trumpet fanfare greeted Lord Vogler as he stepped onto the stage in the lecture hall accompanied by Nurse Brenda. One hundred doctors rose in unison and gave him a standing ovation. After a few moments, Vogler motioned for the crowd to take their seats and began to speak.

"Noble Doctors. You have been invited here today because you are the best and brightest physicians in all the land.  
Today, one of you will become our champion … 'The Best of The Best'.

That champion will have the honour …no, _the privilege, _to go forth and rescuethe lovely Princess Doctor Allison Cameron from the zealous keep of The Dragon Queen.

If for any reason our winner is unsuccessful, the first runner-up will take his place and so on and so forth. Some of you may die …er, er, I meant to say _try_, and fail to return. You will be missed, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

The audience erupted into cheers and jumped to their feet.

"Let the tournament begin!"

oOoOo

"Aneurysm!"  
"Stroke!"  
"Mad Cow!"  
"Is it Creutzfeld-Jakob disease?"  
"Or Wernickie's encephalopathy?"

"No, the patient's blood thiamine level was normal. Move to the back of the hall, you're out!" Brenda watched the five disgruntled doctors shuffle to the back of the room. "Numbers 50 through 54, you're up! Get a move on!"

After grabbing a quick cup of coffee in the cafeteria to calm Wilson's nerves, House and Wilson arrived at the noisy lecture hall and quietly opened the door.

"What on earth is Vogler up to?" whispered House.  
"I haven't the foggiest …" Wilson whispered back.

"Fatigue!"  
"Night sweats!"  
"Weight loss!"  
"Vomiting!"  
"Heart attack!"

"Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong and wrong! Losers!" shouted Brenda. "Numbers 90 through 94, your turn."

"Let's go House …" said Wilson, his resolve short-lived.

"We're not leaving until I straighten things out. I'm not going to allow Vogler to get away with this. LORD VOGLER … LORD VOGLER," shouted House

Suddenly, there was silence.  
Gasps shot through the lecture hall.

"Who's that with Dr. Wilson?" muttered one doctor.  
"He's hideous … like an ogre!" said his seatmate.  
"That's not an ogre … it's just House," an older doctor replied.

Vogler walked to the front of the stage. "Dr. House, Dr. Wilson … to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Cut the crap, Vogler, you know why I'm here. Why did you dump all those weirdoes on my doorstep?"  
House limped down the aisle to meet Vogler. All eyes were upon the two adversaries.

"I've decided to shut down CRIPPLED and turn your lab back into an out-patient clinic."

"What's wrong with the one you've got, Vogler?" hissed House.  
"It's too small. Your building is perfect – after all, it _was_ designed to be a clinic."

House waved his cane angrily in the air. "Well, that's one thing that we agree on – it _is_ perfect … for my lab!  
You'd better keep your pudgy paws off my property or I'll …"

"Or you'll what, House? You have no say in the matter. I've made up my …" Vogler stopped when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

"Pssst …pssst … Lord Vogler, may I have a moment of your time please?" Nurse Brenda asked, motioning for him to join her at the other side of the stage, away from House and Wilson.

"They're not doing very well, Lord Vogler. None of our doctors have been able to correctly diagnose their case.  
What shall we do? How will we choose our winner?"

"How many doctors are still in the running?"  
"Six."

"I have an idea, Brenda." Vogler returned to the centre of the stage.

"Noble Doctors. Since Dr. House is so determined to disrupt our proceedings, let's see which one of you, if any, can beat House to the correct diagnosis, that is, if Dr. House is brave enough to try and match wits with Princeton's finest …" Vogler said, sneering at House.

House could never resist a dare.  
"I haven't a clue what this is about, but, _bring it on!"_

Wilson cowered in the background as the next round of the DDX tournament began.

"Numbers 95 and 96 … please step forward," Brenda ordered.  
House glared at the two young doctors.

"Gentlemen, these are your symptoms. Fever, night sweats, fatigue, general malaise followed by nose bleeds, pain, loss of appetite, weight loss."

"Could be autoimmune disease," said 96.  
"That's not a diagnosis, moron," snarked House.

"Urine may be red or smoke-coloured, eye problems may develop," continued Brenda.

"Is it kidney disease?" asked 95.  
"That's another symptom," chortled House. "It's Wegener's granulomatosis."

The lecture hall was completely silent. The candidates held their breath and prayed for House to be wrong.  
"Dr. House is correct." A disgruntled moan spread throughout the room.

"Numbers 95, 96, you're dismissed," said Brenda. "Numbers 97 and 98, step forward. Here is your next case, gentlemen. Your symptoms. Enlarged tongue, fatigue, irregular heart rhythm, numbness of hands and feet, shortness of breath, skin changes, difficulty swallowing, swelling in the arms and legs, weak hand grip and weight loss."

"Cardiomyopathy?" suggested 97.  
"No, it's Carpal tunnel syndrome, " number 98 said definitively.

House smiled. "You two are good and very close. But those conditions are possible _results_ of this disease.  
You need the cause. It's Amyloidosis."

"Correct again, Dr. House."

Number 97 and 98 shook House's hand and returned to their seats. The sound of one person applauding caught everyone's attention. House looked over his shoulder and saw Wilson cheering him on.

"These are our final two competitors. Numbers 99 and 100, please step forward," announced Brenda.

"This game is entertaining, Vogler, but what are they playing for?" House asked sincerely.  
"You'll find out soon enough, House," grumbled Vogler.

"Your symptoms, gentlemen. Headaches, problems with balance and walking, dizziness, weakness of the limbs, vision problems, and high blood pressure. Angiomatosis and hemangioblastomas have also been detected."

The room fell silent once more. 99 and 100 looked at each other and shook their heads. "We're sorry Lord Vogler, we don't have an answer."  
"C'mon guys, why don't you guess at least? You're no fun," chided House.

"Well, Dr. House, it looks like you are our winner," declared Brenda.  
"Hey wait a minute," objected 99, "maybe House doesn't know either. He could be bluffing."

"Good point, whiney-nine. However … you're wrong. I _do_ know the answer, and so should you. It's Von Hippel-Lindau Disease." The crowd gasped and murmured amongst themselves.

Brenda nodded then whispered to Vogler. "Shall I call security to throw House and Wilson out?"  
"No Brenda, I have a better idea." Vogler moved to centre stage to address his audience.

"Doctors of Princeton, I give you our champion, Dr. Gregory House!"  
The doctors rose and gave House a standing ovation.

"Thank you," House said, acknowledging the physicians. As they left the hall, he turned his attention to Vogler. "What's going on, Vogler?"  
"Congratulations House. You've won the honour of embarking of a great and noble quest."

"Quest? I'm already on a quest. A quest to get CRIPPLED back."  
"You want CRIPPLED back?" questioned Vogler.

"Duh, yea, I do. CRIPPLED is a research facility. It's not a clinic for side-show freaks and fairytale wannabees," House reiterated.

"All right House. I'll make you a deal. If you succeed on my glorious quest, I'll not only let you continue your research, I'll give you the deed to the property!

CRIPPLED will be _yours_ … the swamp, the marsh, the land and the building."

_Crippled will be __**mine? **_House could hardly believe what he was hearing, but one raised eyebrow was all the reaction Vogler saw. "What's the quest?"

"I want you to go to Gotham City and rescue Princess Doctor Allison Cameron. Take Wilson along, if you like," began Vogler.

House paused, then asked, "Dr. Allison Cameron? She's a Lupus researcher at Hughie Louie, isn't she?"  
"It's Dewey Screwem," said Vogler angrily, "and yes she is."

"And she's a princess?"  
Vogler nodded. "I'm bringing her here to marry me."

"Don't underestimate the difficulty of this quest, House - it won't be easy. First, you'll have to get by her boss, Dr. Cuddy, aka The Dragon Queen, and when you_ do_ reach Dr. Cameron, you'll find that she's no push-over, either.

My lawyer will give you a contract for her to sign, but I warn you, she _won't_ give up her research easily. She's part of _your_ deal, House. You have to agree to let Dr. Cameron work with you; that's the only way she'll leave Dewey Screwem."

"Well, I can understand that … who wouldn't want to work with me?" House said with a smirk. "I hear she's a brilliant researcher.  
She can work at CRIPPLED. I agree to the condition."

"Good. So do we have a deal?" Vogler asked, extending his hand.  
"Will you get those patients out of my lab?" House asked warily.

"It's as good as done."  
"And CRIPPLED will be mine?" continued House.

"Trust me," Vogler smiled, "you have my word."  
He watched with amusement as House and Wilson walked out of the lecture hall.

"Are you really going to turn CRIPPLED over to House, Lord Vogler?"

"And let him bring his Lupus cure to market? Not on your life, Brenda … not on your life. Once I have Dr. Cameron safely in my arms, it won't be long before House finds himself 'swamped' with clinic patients all over again."

She smiled at Vogler's choice of words. "But what if he doesn't succeed?"

"Failure isn't an option, Brenda … House _will_ succeed."

oOoOo

"All packed?" House asked, as he stood in the doorway of Wilson's bedroom.

Wilson patted his bag. "Just finished. But I can't stop thinking about Vogler. Do you really believe that he'll honour his agreement?"

House shook his head. "I don't trust Vogler any further than I can throw him, Jimmy, but at least the ambulance bus came and collected all of our squatters."

He began to leave, then paused. "You know, I've got a feeling that there's a _lot_ more to this quest than simply years of conjugal bliss for Vogler. We're missing a piece of the puzzle … and you know me… I _never_ leave a puzzle unsolved. Anyway, I'm going to turn in. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. 'Night, Wilson."

"Goodnight, House. See you bright and early."

House got into bed and reached for the fairy tale book that glowed on his bedside table.  
It fell open to his favourite picture of the princess, gazing longingly into the distance from the tower room of the castle.  
"She must be dreaming of her true love," he murmured, as he drifted off to sleep.

_  
…I wonder if Dr. Cameron's as pretty as the princess in this book …_

… _I wonder if she'll like me …_

… _**Daisyb10**_


	6. I Am An Onion

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**6of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 6 I am an Onion  
**_

House and Wilson walked through the local supermarket, picking up a few supplies for their trip. Even with his Vicodin, House could only stand a few hours on the bike at a time. With Wilson riding in the side car, they'd have to take it even more slowly.

"So, Vogler knows you're close to a breakthrough on the cure for lupus and decided to close down CRIPPLED and turn it into a clinic, which he naturally filled with the freakiest patients he could find because … he wants to get married? It has nothing to do with that pharmaceutical company?" Wilson asked as he grabbed a couple of apples and placed them in the basket he was carrying.

House rolled his eyes in frustration. There was obviously more to it than that, even if House wasn't exactly sure what it was. "You know, maybe there's a reason he's the one coming up with evil plans and not you."

"Okay, evil genius, why is he really doing it?" Wilson asked dryly.

"I have no idea," House replied. "But whatever his reason, it's probably not good for me."

"I don't get it, House. Why didn't you just pull the typical House stuff on him? You know, belittle and embarrass him, grind his bones for your bread…the whole crippled ogre routine," Wilson said, frowning a bit as House picked up a Vidalia without seeming to realize it.

"While I was at it, I could have emasculated all of his staff and then whacked them with my cane. Is that what you had in mind?"

"No, not really."

"If I'm going to figure out what he's really up to, I need more time. I'm manipulating him. It's not all about the snark, you know. I realize I put up a good front most of the time, but there's more to me than most people think," House said quietly, rolling the Vidalia between his large palms.

"Like?" Wilson asked. He knew, of course, that there was more to House. _If I can catch him in one of his contemplative moods maybe he'd open up just a little,_ Wilson though.

House looked down at the produce in his hand. "I am an onion."

_Or not, _Wilson sighed to himself. "Oh, you stink?"

"No."

"Oh you make people cry."

"Well yes, but no."

"Oh you leave them out in the sun and they turn brown and start losing … I mean sprouting little white hairs?" Wilson teased. He nearly laughed out loud when House reached unconsciously for the thinning spot on the top of his head.

"Another metaphor wasted," House moaned. He caught the motion of his hand toward his hair and instead rubbed a tired, and now slightly oniony smelling, hand across his scruffy face. "Layers. Onions have layers; I have layers."

"Oh lay-ers," Wilson drawled. He nodded with mock solemnity. "You know not everybody likes onions." House didn't respond, just began limping away. "Cakes have layers. Everybody likes cake. Especially my white chocolate macadamia nut cake."

"I don't care what everyone likes!" House shouted at Wilson, whirling on his heels and brandishing his cane in frustration. "I am not like a cake!"

"That's for sure," Wilson mumbled, just quietly enough to escape House's ears. House began limping toward the check-out area. Wilson let him get ahead by a few paces and then followed. "You know what else I make everyone likes? Parfait."

"No, you irritating, effeminate Boy Wonder," House seethed. "Not cake, not parfait. I am like an onion. End of metaphor."

"Actually, I think that was a simile," Wilson remarked.

"You know, I think I liked you better when you were screeching like a howler monkey, I mean singing," House grumbled. He dumped his now tattered and bruised Vidalia in Wilson's basket and limped off, leaving the oncologist to pay

&&&&&

Wilson eyed House wash down a Vicodin with a Big Gulp. It wasn't the Vicodin that concerned him so much as the nearly endless bathroom breaks that were sure to result from its companion. He raised an eyebrow in House's direction, but was greeted with a scowl.

Later, a sharp rap to his shins killed the 'I told you so' on his lips as House limped back from his third rest room stop.

&&&&&

House snored lightly and pulled the blankets tightly to his chin to ward off the cool breeze that billowed the motel room's flimsy curtains. He hadn't actually wanted the window open, but Wilson had wanted it closed.

Wilson shifted uncomfortably in the armchair in the corner of the room. His thin frame shivered beneath his coat, having been unable to wrestle any sheets or blankets away from House, who was now snuggled comfortably in the room's king sized bed.

House grinned in his sleep.

&&&&&

House cracked open one eye experimentally. The hue of the light pouring in through the open window indicated an hour far earlier than he ever rose. His puzzlement as to why he'd woken so early was only barely outweighed by his annoyance at having seen such an early hour. He closed his eye again and snuggled back into his pillow, when the mystery was solved.

An obnoxious noise, loud, insistent and thrumming assaulted his eardrums. He pulled the pillow over his head and pressed it tight, but was unable to block out the offending cacophony. Annoyed and now fully awake, House pushed himself out of bed and limped, sans cane, toward the source.

Irritation quickly gave way to incredulity.

Wilson.

In the bathroom.

With a blow dryer.

"You blow dry your hair?" House barked.

"Sorry," Wilson said, turning from the mirror and lowered his rounded brush. "Did I wake you?"

"You blow dry your hair?" House repeated, even more contemptuously than the first time.

"Forgive me for caring about my appearance," Wilson said, turning his back on House and preparing to resume his grooming ritual. "Unlike some people … Hey!"

House unplugged the dryer from the wall roughly and yanked it from Wilson's slender fingers. Wilson made a motion to grab it back, but recoiled from House's murderous glare. House limped deliberately to the window and wrenched it fully open. Pausing to look back at Wilson, he waved the blow dryer tauntingly before flinging it out the window, the cord whipsawing across the sill as it flew to its death in a mangled heap below.

House flashed a satisfied smirk in Wilson's direction at the metallic smash that resounded. "Breakfast?"

&&&&&

Late that afternoon, House slowed the motorcycle as the scenery around them began to shift subtly. Tree-lined streets and lush lawns gave way to dilapidated homes with overgrown lots encased by rusted metal fences.

As House and Wilson progressed further into Gotham, residential neighborhoods receded and industrial buildings took their place. Looming structures of cinderblock and glass towered above them, blocking out the sun from any available angle.

"We must be getting close," House said. Wilson nodded and looked about uneasily.

They continued through the mills and processing plants, the sky clouded by a multitude of colored smoke and noxious fumes. Finally, House and Wilson reached a clearing in the buildings.

A long, narrow suspension bridge stretched out before them, flecks of rust sifting down in pale maroon mists by the blowing breeze. On the opposite side of the bridge, House and Wilson laid eyes upon Dewey Screwem Pharmaceuticals.

The building looked like something from a futuristic nightmare. Shaped like a cone and constructed of smoky gray glass panels supported by wrought iron beams, the building was surrounded by a unique external walkway which wound around the building from base to apex.

"Figures," House snorted. "Cuddy _would_ be in command of the biggest phallus in the tri-state area."

Wilson wasn't amused. "I don't know about that bridge House."

"Oh come on, this is sturdy, old-fashioned construction. It'll be fine," House dismissed him.

He inched the bike forward slowly, amused by Wilson's nervous twitches. Deciding to have a little fun, House swerved the bike from left to right, coming precariously close to the barriers at the edge.

"House!" Wilson wailed.

"What?" House asked innocently.

"Don't…Stop!"

"Don't stop?" House teased. "All right." And he wrenched the wheel even more sharply, careening almost out of control as the bike ate the distance between them and the princess.

"House!" Wilson wailed again. He gripped the sidecar fiercely, knuckles white and palms sweating. "No! No!"

"What, you said do it, I'm doing it?" House said.

Wilson clamped his eyes shut and began muttering to himself. "I'm going to die, I'm going to die and the last person I'll have spent the night with will be House."

"Wilson, get a hold of yourself," House said as he slowed the bike to a stop. Wilson dared to open his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to find himself very much not dead.

"Uh, House, that whole you're being the last person I spent the night with…"

"You could do worse, Cancer Boy."

**_...JellyBean30_**


	7. The Dragon Queen

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**7 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 7 – The Dragon Queen**_

House and Wilson stepped through the imposing doors of the tower cautiously. As House laid his hand against the smooth, cool surface of the smoky glass, an odd sense of deja vu swept over him. The doors swung shut behind him and he paused, trying to identify the source of this strangely familiar feeling. He knew he'd never been here before; hell, he hadn't left CRIPPLED in years, but he _knew_ this place.

"House."

Wilson's tentative voice broke him free of the curious sensation. He looked around the entry way of the tower and the trepidation in Wilson's voice was suddenly apparent.

The shaded glass panes of the tower blocked any ambient light from outside, creating a dusky atmosphere inside. As House's eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of illumination, his gaze was steadily drawn toward the longest corridor extending from the foyer he stood in.

When his eyes had adjusted, House nodded at Wilson and the two made their way into the corridor. As they walked, House placed his cane carefully to avoid thudding. They passed a set of pillars on either side of the hall, each subtly lit by an overhead light. House ignored them, but Wilson stopped to examine one briefly.

Atop the pillar was a badly mangled briefcase, its contents splaying out from between its warped sides. Wilson peered more closely and saw employment contracts poking out like the stuffing from a neglected stuffed animal. He recognized the name on one of the letters as the administrator of a prestigious medical center in the mid west.

Wilson turned his head slowly and viewed the length of the corridor. It was lined with pillars on either side for as far as Wilson could see. They showcased briefcases, messenger bags and the occasional lap top computer, each damaged or destroyed in some fashion. These were the possessions of those who had come to get Cameron before them, abandoned in haste and fear.

"House, have you ever met Dr. Cuddy?" Wilson asked as he jogged to catch up to House, who had walked a bit ahead.

"No, just heard about her," House said. He stopped and looked back down the corridor. "There are no doors."

"She can't really be as bad as they say. Right?" Wilson asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"You're scared, aren't you?" House asked, rounding on Wilson with an amused look on his face.

"No, I'm not …scared. Just, well, they probably don't call her The Dragon Queen for nothing."

"Dragon Queen?" House smirked. "I thought they called her The Drag Queen. You know, because she used to be a man."

"Seriously?"

"NO!" House scoffed. "Why don't you go and find the elevators?"

"Why do we need the elevators?" Wilson asked following House dutifully back toward the main entrance.

"Cripple, not taking the stairs," House whacked Wilson sharply on the shin to emphasize his point.

Wilson hobbled behind House, mumbling obscenities under his breath. "I meant, why do we need to go up?"

"Because the princess will be in the highest room of the tallest tower," House answered immediately. He stopped and cocked his head uncertainly to one side. _Why do I know that?_

"How do you know?"

"I read it in a book once," House said slowly, looking around the tower again and trying desperately to remember something. Resolutely he shook his head and began walking again. "Wish I knew where…."

Wilson struck a path down the left side of the hall, while House followed more slowly, carefully taking in the details of his surrounding in the hopes it would jog his memory.

"Why don't you go find the elevator … cripple not taking the stairs … like I've ever made him take the stairs … grumpy jerk … sending me off to find the elevators like I'm some secretary … and where the hell are the …"

_DING!_

Over Wilson's head, a cleverly concealed display lit up indicating the elevator's return to the first floor.

"Elevators," Wilson announced.

"Well, at least we can get to the princess," House said. "But where's the …"

"Dragon Queen?" a voice purred as the elevator doors slid open.

Wilson gasped as a figure stepped to the front of the elevator. The dim glow of the security lights revealed a black patent leather stiletto heel. Wilson and House followed the leg attached to that shoe up to a blood red pencil skirt encasing sensuous hips. A black satin blouse with a deep v-neck topped the skirt, enhancing already impressive cleavage. A mane of silky, raven colored locks cascaded over the shoulders residing in the blouse and framed the face of the infamous Dragon Queen. She was regal and sensual. Deadly.

"Dragon Cuddy … I mean, Dr. Queen," Wilson stammered. Cuddy smirked dangerously as she appraised Wilson and marked him as easy prey. Her eyes slid to House and his lecherous leer faded. Certain he couldn't get past her using any conventional method; House did what House does best.

Hooking Wilson's shin with the handle of his cane, he gave his best and only friend a good shove, straight into the dragon's lair, metaphorically speaking. Wilson flailed his arms mightily, but finding no purchase he tumbled forward into the elevator, taking Cuddy with him. The doors slid shut. House limped away quickly, counting on the time it would take Cuddy and Wilson to untangle their limbs to provide for his escape.

Escape.

House limped out the doors and into the blinding sun. He squinted and let his eyes adjust while his mind was whirling. He needed to get away from the Dragon Queen. He needed to get back to his lab. If he didn't get the princess, his lab would once again be full of sick and annoying patients. He had to get the princess. The princess was in her lab at the top of the tower. The Dragon Queen was currently in the elevator, his only way of getting up the …

House eyed the tower thoughtfully. His eyes followed the walkway winding around the building. He cocked his head to one side and let his gaze slide over to his motorcycle.

&&&&&

Cuddy and Wilson struggled to disentangle themselves, but not before Wilson felt a hand not so subtly grab his behind. Finally the two were free of each other, and Wilson quickly retreated to the far side of the elevator.

"Some friend he is, throwing me to dogs," Wilson said. Then he blushed and stammered on. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. I don't mean you're a dog. Far from it. You're more feline, I would say." He continued stuttering and generally making a fool himself, all the while desperately searching the wall behind him for the button to open the elevator.

"There's definitely a graceful quality about the way you move, especially in that skirt," Wilson continued, his eyes lighting up as his fingers fell upon the door panel. He turned as quickly as possible to find the door open button, but not quickly enough.

In just those few seconds, The Dragon Queen descended upon him.

&&&&&

The engine rumbled deafeningly as House inched his way forward to the bottom of the walkway. He paused for only a second or two before releasing the brake and coaxing the bike up the formidable hill. He crept up the winding path, slowly gaining speed until the bike was swallowing the space before him like a parched desert dweller swallows water. The angle of the turn tightened increasingly as House drove higher and higher.

He reached the top of the path and braked hard, halting just shy of crashing through the smoky glass pane that reflected his image. Slightly dizzy from the winding path and towering height, House removed his helmet and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He needed to get to the princess, but couldn't see any way to get into the lab.

The engine rumbled, and House noticed a mild tremor in his mirror self. Twisting the throttle experimentally, House watched the glass shake more obviously. He smirked, and revved the engine several times, enjoying the rippling effect the cacophony had on the glass.

A door panel slid open and a beautiful young woman stepped into the frame. Her honey colored hair was held back in a thick, lustrous braid that fell over one shoulder. She was dressed simply and plainly, but that did nothing to hide her beauty.

"Who is making all that racket?"

**_...JellyBean30_**


	8. Persuading the Princess

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:** 8 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**Chapter 8 – Persuading the Princess**_

"Are you Dr. Allison Cameron?" House asked rudely.

"I am," Cameron replied earnestly. "Awaiting a colleague so clever as to rescue me."

"Oh, that's nice," House said, rolling his eyes. "Hop on."

"But … this is our first meeting," Cameron protested. "Shouldn't we take the time for an interview?"

"Yeah," House drawled. "Never really liked interviewing. Hop on."

"Wait, you can't expect me to just abandon my work, my research, for just any guy who pulls up to my window," Cameron said exasperatedly.

"Just any guy," House repeated slowly. "You get lots of guys up here?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"What? No!" Cameron protested. "That's not …"

"Oh unclench, I know what you meant," House snapped. Cameron placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. He sighed. "Look, there's a state of the art lab where we're going. The research you're doing you can keep doing there. Now … Hop. On." House stressed each word, even patting the seat behind him for emphasis.

"But …" Cameron wavered. She eyed the motorcycle dubiously. "It doesn't look very safe."

"I'm not safe? Cool," House replied.

Cameron sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Can I at least know your name?"

"House."

"House," Cameron repeated. "Dr. Gregory House, from Princeton?"

"If I say yes, will that get you on the bike?" House questioned.

"Will it be the truth?"

"What is truth?" House asked. When Cameron clenched again, he relented. "Yes, Dr. Gregory House. Do you want my ID? Some DNA? I could provide a sperm sample." His eyes twinkled when Cameron blushed. "Hop on."

Cameron stared at him incredulously. House winked. Cameron tried, but couldn't suppress the smirk that crept across her face. _Princeton,_ she thought to herself. _He's certainly not what I was expecting, but …_

Cameron dropped her arms in defeat. House tossed her his helmet. She slid it over her head and climbed onto the bike behind him, gingerly taking fistfuls of his leather jacket. House reached back and grabbed her slender wrists in his capable hands and pulled her arms around him tightly, forcing her chest against his back and her thighs to slide against his hips. He grinned. She smiled.

&&&&&

"So, you're meant to negotiate with me while your friend tries to abscond with Dr. Cameron?" Cuddy asked, running her nails lightly down Wilson's arms. The elevator doors slid open behind him, but Wilson didn't notice.

"Unless you want to make out," he blurted.

Cuddy stared at Wilson for a long moment, waiting to see what his next move was.

Wilson, for his part, had no 'next move'. He wasn't prepared to negotiate with Cuddy, and the adrenaline coursing through his system was clouding his better judgment. Not to mention The Dragon Queen was smokin' hot.

Cuddy had been approached by many doctors and administrators, lords and princes who wanted to take Cameron away, but none had ever used sex as a negotiating tactic before. She stared more closely at Wilson and to her surprise, saw no sign he was trying to deceive her.

It had been so long since anyone, especially an innocent but devilishly good looking man, had been interested in her as anything other than an administrator that she couldn't help but smile. Wilson grinned back boyishly.

They reached for each other simultaneously, their lips crashing together.

&&&&&

"Tell me again why I'm the one pushing," Cameron whispered harshly from the back of House's bike.

"Wilson may be a pain, but I'm not going to leave him here in The Dragon Queen's evil clutches. Who would do my laundry?" Cameron made a face and stopped pushing. House rolled his eyes. "If she hears the bike, we'll never get to him and unless you know how to drive this thing …" House let his voice trail off. Cameron harrumphed, but couldn't argue with his logic. House suppressed a grin as she placed her hands back on the bike and once more put her back into it.

House guided the bike's progress through the underground parking garage toward an elevator which Cameron told him would lead them to the main floor. Cameron strained and House steered and between them they maneuvered the bike into the freight elevator. Cameron leaned against the wall as the elevator doors slid shut, panting heavily.

&&&&&

Cuddy and Wilson, hands groping wildly, backed into the control panel of their elevator. Wilson moaned softly as Cuddy's hands wound around his waist and down to his behind, her knuckles brushing against the buttons.

Wilson tugged Cuddy's shoulders and the two sunk to the elevator floor as the doors slid open behind them. Cuddy kicked off her stiletto heels and ran her toes up the leg of Wilson's trousers.

&&&&&

Cameron stood beside House, still perched atop his bike, as they ascended in the elevator. 'Guaglione' played in the background. Cameron caught herself tapping her foot in time with the music. Shooting a sidelong glance in House's direction, she noticed him drumming his fingers on the handlebars to the beat. He glanced in her direction and their eyes met. House smirked and Cameron grinned sheepishly before averting her eyes.

Both continued to tap along with the music.

The elevator arrived at the lobby and the doors slid open. Cameron and House looked across the lobby toward the passenger elevator. Cameron gasped. House leaned over the handlebars and jammed his finger onto the Door Open.

The passenger elevator doors slid open and shut, open and shut, open and shut, blocked from closing by a haphazardly discarded shoe. House was mesmerized. It was like watching something under a strobe light, but in slow motion, so that only flashes of what was going on were visible. Then he truly realized what he was seeing, and was instantly grateful the doors weren't simply open.

He looked at Cameron, who was blushing prettily and staring at the ceiling. She must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned and blushed deeper at meeting his gaze. He jerked his head toward the back of the bike and she frowned, but dutifully climbed on behind him.

House started the engine and revved it as hard as he could. He grinned widely watching Wilson's head pop up from ….EW! House's grin died on his face and was replaced with a scowl when The Dragon Queen lifted her head at the offending noise. House revved the engine again.

Wilson leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Cuddy's lips before making a break for it. House tried very hard not to laugh as Wilson barely managed to grab onto his unbuckled pants before they slid off his hips and to the floor. Running in sock feet, Wilson slipped and slid across the lobby toward his escape.

Stumbling as she was, with only one heel on, Cuddy followed Wilson unsteadily out of the elevator in a feeble attempt to stop him. Or so they thought. When Wilson reached the mid point of the lobby, Cuddy stepped to what appeared to be a blank wall and somehow pulled out a phone. What few lights were shining extinguished themselves, leaving only a faint blue security light along the floor.

Wilson sped up, the distant shouts of the oncoming guards spurring him on. He skidded the last ten feet or so and crashed into the motorcycle's sidecar headfirst. House leaned back, releasing the Door Open.

Cameron kept her eyes trained steadily on the back of House's head while Wilson rearranged himself and his clothing in the sidecar. Sufficiently recovered, Wilson carefully avoided House's gaze.

'Guaglione' played unobtrusively.

"You're supposed to _slay _dragons, Wilson. _S-s-s-lay,_" House hissed out the 's' for emphasis.

"Shut up House."

The doors slid open to the garage and House gunned the engine. It wasn't long before two security cars were following them. House raced through the garage, Cameron's grip on him tightening at every sharp turn.

The bike's better maneuvering and House's reckless driving brought the trio to the bridge well before the security team. They sped onto the bridge, security hot on their tail, when House noticed a third vehicle join the chase. It was a fire engine red Ferrari, and was driven by none other than The Dragon Queen herself. If he hadn't been fleeing with an abductee, House might have thought she looked pretty hot.

The bridge, unaccustomed to such an influx of traffic at such high speeds, began to sway. House and Wilson glanced at each nervously. A twisted metal shrieking began behind them, and House pushed the engine for all it was worth.

Cameron dared to turn her head and watch as the bridge swayed and buckled behind them. Cuddy and the two security vehicles barely had time to back up before a large section of the bridge simply gave way and collapsed.

**_...JellyBean30_**


	9. Polite People Shake Hands

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:** 9 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

**Chapter 9 – Polite People Shake Hands**

"You did it!" Cameron shouted as she blithely jumped off the back of the motorcycle. House frowned, in response to the combination of her chipper attitude and the sudden lack of her touching him. "You rescued me!"

Cameron took several steps forward, staring in wide-eyed amazement at the collapsed bridge behind them. House, meanwhile, was making faces at Wilson, who was rummaging through his bag for a second pair of shoes.

"You're amazing!" Cameron continued gushing, unaware she was being ignored. House had grabbed one of the loafers Wilson had pulled from his bag and was currently holding it away from his friend. Cameron turned back to her saviors. "You're …" she paused and watched the two play a frantic game of keep-away, "a little unorthodox I'll admit, but you did it!"

House snorted at Cameron's enthusiasm, which distracted him just long enough for Wilson to grab hold of his loafer. Wilson put it on and cleared his throat loudly, hoping for a little recognition.

"Yeah, yeah, I couldn't have done it without you, poor, poor man who had to make out with the incredibly hot chick," House said sarcastically to Wilson, who frowned.

"Yes, well," Cameron said, blushing slightly again at the memory. "The battle is won."

House reached into a small storage compartment on the side of the bike and withdrew the contract Vogler had given him. He nudged Wilson, who leaned forward so Cameron could use his back to sign it. House withdrew a pen from an interior pocket of his jacket and handed it her. With a flourish, Dr. Allison Cameron signed her name to the contract. House took the contract and the pen, and placed both back in the small storage compartment.

Cameron extended her hand to House.

House looked at her blankly.

"If we're going to be working together, you could at least shake my hand," Cameron said uncertainly.

House only continued to stare.

"Polite people shake hands," Cameron insisted.

House and Wilson exchanged amused glances, but Cameron did not share in their sentiment.

"A true gentleman, one who would brave such dangers to rescue his true love, would have the decency to stand up and shake my hand," Cameron said sternly.

House and Wilson laughed. Wilson laughed at the very concept of House ever being thought of as a true gentleman; House laughed nervously at the idea he could be the true love of a hot, young princess.

"You think House is your true love?" Wilson guffawed.

"Well, yes," Cameron said in confusion. "You must know how it goes. A princess, trapped in a tower and protected by a fierce guard, is rescued by her true love. Now stand up and shake my hand!"

"Uh, no," House replied.

"I'm not asking for a life long commitment right now. Just a hand shake."

"Germs," House protested.

"Get off that bike and come shake my hand," Cameron insisted.

"I'm a pianist, I have to protect my hands," House stammered, a little taken aback by her stubbornness.

"Get off that bike!" Cameron finally shouted in frustration, stomping her foot for emphasis.

"All right!" House shouted back. He unclipped his cane from the side of the bike and dismounted, limping over until he was standing a scant few inches from Cameron.

Cameron's hand dropped.

"You're …your leg," she breathed.

"My leg," House repeated.

"You're …"

"A cripple? It's a blessing and a curse, really. Horrible, blinding leg pain, but I get all the best parking spaces and chicks dig the hard wood."

Cameron looked absolutely crushed. "But, you're not supposed to be a cripple."

"I heard that," House mumbled.

"No, this is all wrong. You're supposed to be my knight, my champion, my …"

"True love. Yeah, there appears to have been a clerical error here. Didn't you get the memo? Lord Vogler _sent_ me to rescue you. He's the one who wants to marry you."

"And what about my work?" Cameron asked.

"Lord Vogler is the Hospital Administrator at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. PPTH provides the funding for CRIPPLED, where Dr. House works," Wilson offered, feeling a bit left out and wanting to be helpful.

"Princeton?" Cameron asked in a daze. Suddenly her eyes sharpened and took on a steely glint House was becoming familiar with. So far, it meant trouble. "Well, if Lord Vogler wants me, you can tell him I'll be right here waiting."

"I'm nobody's messenger boy," House seethed. "I'm a delivery boy. Get on the bike."

"No."

House and Wilson exchanged glances again, and Cameron grew wary.

"Get on the bike, or I'll sedate you and strap you in the sidecar," House threatened.

"You wouldn't dare," Cameron replied defiantly.

House raised an eyebrow, and allowed an evil little grin to spread.

&&&&&

An hour later, Cameron stirred groggily to find herself slumped uncomfortably in the motorcycle's sidecar, the scenery whizzing by at an alarming speed. She sat up straighter, and looked left. House was driving, with Wilson holding on as lightly as he could without falling off the bike.

"He dosed me," Cameron said aloud. She glared at House. Wilson glanced in her direction, and seeing her awake smiled a tentative smile at her. Cameron folded her arms over her chest and continued to glare. Wilson nudged House.

House turned and looked quickly at Cameron. Instantly taking in the barely checked fury within her, he decided to pull off the highway at the next exit, lest she do something foolish like try to grab the handlebars and kill them all.

He pulled into the first rest area he could find, turned off the bike and pocketed the keys. He had no intention of providing Cameron with an easy means of escape. Wilson all but leapt from the back of the bike and sprinted towards the men's room. House struck off behind him at a slower pace. Cameron watched his stiff gait as he made his way to the restrooms, and wondered briefly how long they had been driving and how sore his leg really was. She felt herself softening toward him and checked herself sharply.

She followed behind him to the men's room, watched him enter, counted to twenty and then burst in.

"You dosed me!"

Wilson blushed fiercely and tried to angle his body in such a way that Cameron wouldn't be able to see anything. He needn't have worried; Cameron only had eyes for House and currently those eyes were shooting daggers straight at his skull.

"Well, yeah," House said slowly. He turned to look at her, and for the barest of seconds when their eyes met he felt a spark of …_something_ … in his chest. He dismissed it, telling himself it was just the embarrassment of having a girl in the men's room.

"Don't 'well, yeah' me. You dosed me! You don't know me; you don't know my medical history. What if something had happened?" Cameron railed at him.

House flushed and zipped up. He limped to the sinks, where he had hung his cane, and began washing his hands.

"You're with two of the best doctors Princeton, maybe the world, has ever seen," House said calmly. He splashed some cool water on his face and met her eyes in the mirror. Once again he felt that stirring in his chest, and so missed Wilson's mixed expression of astonishment and pride. "It was a mild sedative, completely harmless. Really, it's basically just a glass of warm milk and a bed time story in a syringe."

Cameron sighed exasperatedly. Screaming at him was really so unsatisfying when he clearly didn't care that she was upset.

"How long have we been driving?"

"About an hour," Wilson said.

"The sooner we get to Princeton, the better," Cameron muttered darkly.

"Oh you'll love it there, Dr. Cameron. It's beautiful," Wilson continued. He had taken the opportunity to finish his business while Cameron was yelling at House and was now heading toward the sinks to wash.

"And what about Lord Vogler?" Cameron asked. "What's he like?"

House smirked. "Well, let's put it this way, _Princess_," House sneered at her, almost making princess sound like a derogatory. "Lord Vogler's never had any trouble throwing his _weight_ around," House said, providing a visual reference by spreading his arms about three times wider than Cameron's body.

"That's true, House," Wilson said, looking at Cameron carefully. "He certainly does have a _wide_ sphere of influence."

"Stop it, both of you. You're just jealous, because you could never measure up to a great and glorious leader like Lord Vogler," Cameron rebuked them.

"Well, Dr. Cameron, you can do the _measuring_ for yourself when we get there tomorrow," House said, grabbing his cane from the sinks and exiting the men's room. Wilson followed behind him, leaving Cameron behind.

"Tomorrow?"

Cameron ran out of the restrooms and caught up with House and Wilson.

"It will take that long? Shouldn't we stop and find a hotel for the night?"

"No, that'll take longer," House said. "We can keep going."

"But, this isn't the nicest section of New Jersey. What about robbers?" Cameron said desperately.

"Oh, come on," House whined. "I'm scarier than anything you're going to see in this part of town."

"I NEED TO FIND A HOTEL ROOM NOW!!" Cameron shouted.

House and Wilson backed off unsurely, shooting each other worried glances.

**_...JellyBean30_**


	10. Takeout

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:** 10 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

**Chapter 10 - Takeout**

House limped back toward the bike from the front office of the Tuck 'Em Inn, a small and very out of the way motel they'd found a few miles off the highway. Wilson, sitting in the sidecar watched him warily and Cameron, who had walked off a short distance to stretch her legs, watched him tensely.

"They've got one cabin left," House said.

"Fine," Cameron said, almost commanded.

"It's in the back," House informed them as he climbed on the bike. Cameron mounted behind him and they slowly made their way down the access road.

They pulled up in front of their cabin, which could be kindly described as dilapidated, but in House's eyes looked like a giant flea trap. He stopped the bike and looked at Wilson uncertainly. He wasn't a man who normally cared about the superficial trappings of modern life, but even by _his_ standards this place was barely fit for human population.

Cameron climbed off the back of the bike and walked to the door. House followed.

"House," Wilson hissed as he jumped out of the sidecar and met up with House, "we can do better than this."

House walked up the two steps and gave Cameron the key. She unlocked the door and the three walked inside. The tiny cabin had one miniscule bedroom, barely large enough to accommodate the opening door before it slammed into the bed itself. The moth-eaten and mold scented couch was the only piece of furniture in the combination living/dining/kitchen area, save one wobbly stool tucked under the counter. Emanating from the postage stamp sized bathroom, which could only be viewed by the dim light of a swinging overhead bulb, was a smell House associated with his visits to the morgue in medical school.

"It's fine," Cameron said as she stepped into the bedroom and peered anxiously through the rusty screen window at the rapidly setting sun. "It just needs one thing."

"One thing?" Wilson choked out, the stench from the bathroom thick in his nose.

"And what's that?" House asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Privacy," Cameron said, and closed the bedroom door in their faces.

House raised an eyebrow at Wilson and then made for the door, grabbing his keys as he went.

"House!"

"What? Oh come on, I was only kidding," House said, rolling his eyes.

&&&&&

House stretched out his long legs and crossed his feet at the ankles, his back resting against Wilson's jacket, which was resting against the couch. Wilson was beside him, sitting Indian style and ramrod straight, determined not to let his back come into contact with the biohazard that was the couch.

The floor around them was littered with take-out Chinese cartons. House had moaned, whined and grumbled about the wheat crackers and dried fruit Wilson had packed in his bag, until finally Wilson had called around and found a Chinese restaurant that would deliver and accept a credit card.

"Are there any egg rolls left?" Wilson asked, tipping over the cartons in his reach.

"Nope," House said, subtly sliding a container containing the last egg roll behind his leg.

"Seriously? I didn't even get one," Wilson said.

"Maybe they forgot them," House offered as an explanation.

"Right, and I might believe that if I hadn't seen you eating two."

House just shrugged, a completely placid expression on his face.

"Hey House, what are we going to do when we get the lab back?" Wilson asked.

"What?"

"You know, when we're done rescuing the Princess and you're finished kissing Vogler's …" he waved his hand for House to fill in the blank.

"Wilson, there's no we, there's no us. You can stay while you're getting back on your feet, but that's only temporary. In the end, there's just me and my lab. And as soon as I get it back, I'm going to call Rodney from Securatron and have him install a ten foot tall electrified fence around my land," House said.

Wilson hung his head sorrowfully, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

House looked almost contrite, but he shook it off as he watched Wilson begin gathering empty cartons and stuffing used napkins in them. Wilson took the garbage to the kitchen counter and deposited it there.

"You know, all the fence is going to do is keep people out," Wilson said quietly, keeping his back to House.

"Yeah, kinda the idea there Jimbo."

"You can't keep everyone out forever House," Wilson said as he turned around. House rolled his eyes in utter frustration. He couldn't believe Wilson wanted to go through this all again. "What about Dr. Cameron? She's going to be working with you at CRIPPLED. What are you going to do about that?"

House looked terrified for a moment, and then just shook his head tiredly. "I don't know."

"Why don't you want to talk about it?"

"Why do you _want_ to talk about it?"

"Because I'm your friend, and I care about you," Wilson said.

"Just leave it alone, Wilson," House said tiredly.

"We always just leave it alone," Wilson argued.

"And I'm okay with that," House said.

"Well I'm not," Wilson said.

"Drop it."

"No, just tell me this House, who are you trying to keep out?"

"Everyone!" House shouted at him.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Wilson said patronizingly.

"Oh for crying out …" House rubbed a tired hand over his face and stood up, grabbing the carton he'd secreted earlier and limped the two painful paces to the room's only window.

"House, why are you trying to shut yourself off from the world? What's the real problem?" Wilson asked.

"I'm not the one with the problem. It's the world that seems to have a problem with me," House said. "I tell the truth, I don't spare people's feelings with stupid platitudes and social bull because it doesn't get you anywhere except stunned when the cruelty of 'the world' hits you in the face. Like this," he gestured to his leg. "People take one look at the cane and they pity me. 'Oh look at the poor, useless, bitter cripple'" he mocked venomously. "They judge me before they even know me."

Wilson pushed the last of the cartons into the trashcan he'd found under the sink. He walked over to stand beside House and look out the window at the stars.

"I didn't think that when I saw your cane," Wilson said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," House said, quieter still.

"I already knew you were useless and bitter."

House smirked. He handed Wilson the carton with the last egg roll.

And all the while, a curious princess watched from the cracked open bedroom door.

**_...JellyBean30_**


	11. Can You Call Them Merry Men?

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**11 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

_**11 – Can You Call Them Merry Men?**_

Cameron woke early as the first gentle rays of sun filtered through the filthy window. She had slept atop the sheets, the very sight of the pale green mold growing in the sheets enough to turn even her doctor-strong stomach. She cracked the bedroom door and eased it open gently, not wanting to wake anyone who might still be sleeping. She needn't have worried, judging by the timbre of the snoring that assaulted her ears when she exited the room. Wilson, shivering slight in his sleep, had been relegated to the floor by House, who had taken up residence on the couch after draping it with Wilson's jacket.

Cameron tiptoed out of the cabin and into the full strength of the sun's rays. She turned her face to the sky and allowed the sun to warm and soothe her. A gentle breeze played across her upturned face and lifted her honey colored tresses, which she had released from their braid before going to sleep. She ran her fingers lightly through her hair, spreading it out and allowing the wind to fully catch it. Stretching her arms out wide, her hair a golden cloud haloing her face, she spun in circles, grateful for the ability to use her body to express her joy for life.

"Good thing you have that doctor thing to fall back on," a voice said from behind her. "You know, in case your career as a ballerina is a flop, so to speak."

Cameron froze mid-twirl. She dropped her arms to her sides and turned to face her rescuer.

House simply stared as her silken locks floated softly and fell on her shoulders in the dying breeze. She was a vision of loveliness. The way she had been so lost in the morning, as if she were absorbing the sunlight and radiating it out into the world through her very appearance, was enchanting. Her genuine appreciation for being in this place at this time affected House in a way he'd not felt in years. He reacted the only way he knew, with scorn.

Embarrassed at having been caught, Cameron sidled past House back into the cabin. The wind gusted as she passed him, flicking a blonde lock across his face. He chose to ignore the warmth it spread through him, and silently followed her back inside, where Wilson was beginning to stir on the floor.

"You know I like it like that," Wilson mumbled. House smirked at Cameron's obvious discomfort. "Oh yeah, The Dragon Queen can breathe fire on my…"

"Wilson," House barked, accompanied by a sharp poke to Wilson's ribs with his cane.

Wilson jerked awake and blinked up at House and Cameron sleepily.

"Good morning," Cameron said.

"Good morning Princess," Wilson said. "Or, do you prefer Dr. Cameron?"

"Just Cameron would be fine," she replied kindly. "Or … you could call me Allison."

"He can stick with Cameron," House said, and Wilson raised an eyebrow at what he would call a possessive tone of voice.

They checked out of the inn, or 'The Roach Motel,' as House not so affectionately called it, and hit the road. House had been leery about taking the inn keeper's recommendation for a place to get breakfast, but in the end his grumbling stomach outweighed his infectious disease training. He could always order something deep fried, he reasoned, and assume nothing really dangerous would survive the process.

He steered the bike onto the street where the innkeeper had directed them. He'd thought the Tuck 'Em Inn was atrocious, but not even that had prepared him for 'The Blue Oyster'. He should have been more suspicious as he had driven through the decidedly seedy neighborhood. Tucked in a row of dilapidated industrial buildings, a guard-rail indicated the sub-street level entrance to their destination. A gaudy neon sign flashed at him cheekily in a shade of blue that made House wish his eyes were a different color, if only so they'd never be associated with that particular hue.

Cameron climbed off the back of the bike and removed House's helmet. She shook her hair out and raked her fingers through it quickly, then began braiding it again, probably to ward off any bugs inside the club that might be looking for a place to nest. Wilson climbed out of the sidecar and looked down at his expensive French loafers and then sighed.

"Well, we've got lots more driving to do, we need to eat," Cameron said pleasantly enough, although House listened carefully for any signs of revulsion in her voice.

"This is a nightclub," Wilson said. "Are we sure they're even open?"

"The guy at the inn said they make the best eggs around here," House answered, still watching Cameron doubtfully. After her stubbornness of the previous day, he wasn't sure what to expect.

"Come on, I'll buy," she said and began walking across the parking lot.

House's doubts were quelled.

Wilson caught up to Cameron quickly and descended the stairs to open the door for her. House hesitated at the top of the staircase. It was short, no more than five steps, but steep. Wilson glanced up at him while holding the door open and made as if to offer his assistance. House glowered at him menacingly, his eyes darting quickly to the back of Cameron's head and Wilson understood. He followed Cameron inside, hovering hear the door behind her to listen in on House's progress.

The door opened again behind them and House limped in, sweaty and flushed. Wilson raised an eyebrow in his direction, silently asking if he was okay. House nodded his head forward. Wilson turned and got his first real look at the club and finally understood Cameron's hesitation at proceeding past the entrance.

The room was small, barely large enough to accommodate the bar, the tiny dance floor and half a dozen tables. The ceiling was low; House could have brushed it with his hands at far less than a full stretch. It was dimly lit and even at this early hour, a thick mass of cigarette smoke hung in the air. The entire place gave off the impression of a cave. House smiled; this seemed like his kind of place.

Annoyed with Cameron and Wilson's sudden timidity, he limped to the bar and spoke to the man tending there and then threaded his way through the maze of tables and chairs to a spot in the far corner. Wilson smirked, recognizing House's favorite position in any new situation. Back to the wall and with the best vantage point for watching everything around him. He placed a hand gently on Cameron's back and steered her toward the table.

"It's got … atmosphere," Cameron said slowly as she sat across the table from House. Wilson took the seat to her right and twisted around for another look.

"What's all this about?" House asked suspiciously.

"All what?" Cameron asked.

"This," House waved his hand, as if that clarified his statement. "You…being all nice."

"I'm nice," Cameron said dryly. "We got off to a bad start yesterday. It's a long trip, there's no reason why we have to spend the whole time sniping at each other."

Wilson and House exchanged a look.

"Eggs," a gruff voice said, interrupting the trio before House could prod Cameron for any further information. The three looked up with concern as the very large, very hairy, very sweaty cook slammed a tray down on the table. He walked off slowly, scratching his behind as he went.

"I didn't see that, I didn't see that, I didn't see that," Wilson chanted to himself.

House rolled his eyes. The tray was crammed with plates of eggs, a plate of toast, another of bacon, three coffee mugs, a carafe and a litter of silverware. House took a plate of eggs, four slices of toast and several bacon strips. He then grabbed a fork and began eating.

Wilson reluctantly took his plate of eggs and a one slice of toast. He wrinkled his nose at the bacon, which had been cooked so thoroughly that calling it burnt would have been like calling House grouchy, a major understatement. He closed his eyes and began to eat, hoping that blocking out the scenery around him would make it easier to pretend he was eating at home.

House barely looked up from his plate to pour himself a cup of coffee and snag the bacon he knew Wilson wouldn't eat. He reached for a mug and his hand landed on empty space. He looked up and a mug, full of coffee fixed the way he preferred, was placed in his hand. His fingers brushed slightly over those handing the drink to him.

"Coffee," Cameron said softly.

"Yeah," House replied. They stared at each other, neither one able to look away, their hands outstretched across the table and still linked around the coffee mug.

Cameron released the coffee mug and House placed it on the table untouched. They continued eating in silence for a few minutes, until House and Cameron reached for the last piece of bacon at the same time. Cameron beat him to it by a millisecond and House scowled. She took her last piece of toast, filled it with remainder of her eggs and the final slice of bacon, folded it like a taco and ate it in three impossibly large bites.

"You know," House said, "you're not exactly what I expected."

"Maybe you shouldn't judge people before you get to know them," Cameron said saucily. House drained his coffee cup and the two looked at Wilson.

"I think my eggs are moving," he moaned, and pushed his plate away in disgust. House grabbed his cane and stood, tapping it impatiently as he waited for Wilson and Cameron.

Cameron dropped a few bills on the table. Cameron's shoes were making disturbing sticky sounds as she walked and in trying to see what might have gotten onto them she walked into someone.

"Excuse me." Cameron lifted her head and smiled politely at the men who were standing in front of them. Politely, until she saw what they were wearing.

There were three of them and together they were impressive. The man to the left was young, dark haired and boyish looking. He had a playful smirk on his face, but that was not what Cameron noticed. What Cameron noticed was the leather vest, complete with several wide, gold zippers, which covered his otherwise bare torso. He was wearing black jeans; the denim appeared almost painfully tight. His feet were clad in black hiking boots, also adorned with a few gold zippers.

The man to the right was tall and thin, but not in the pleasantly muscular way that House was. He had an angular face, which was accentuated by the smooth bald head not completely covered by his leather cap. He was wearing a matching black leather biker's jacket, sans shirt, blue jeans with leather chaps and black patent leather boots.

The man in the middle was short, almost comically so. He had a thin, gray, disheveled ponytail at the nape of his neck, the only hair that could be seen beneath his large, black cowboy hat. Leather seemed to be his chosen fabric also, although Cameron couldn't help but wish he was wearing more of it. Like his two companions he was shirtless, but was making no attempt to cover his chest, which was adorned with only a black bolo tie. A pair of impossibly tight black leather pants and black cowboy boots with bright silver spurs completed his ensemble.

"Leaving so soon?" the man in the middle asked. Cameron began to feel uneasy.

"We've got a long drive," she said, her polite smile faltering.

"My name is Yule," the man said. He nodded toward the younger man. "That's Sebastian," and then nodded toward the man in the chaps, "and that's Arnie. How about a dance? Rickie!" Yule shouted over his shoulder.

A very effeminate man in a vibrant pink shirt and tight jeans pressed a button on an ancient jukebox in the corner. The first sultry strains of 'El Bimbo' floated over the clouds of smoke.

"The lady said we've got a long drive," Wilson said bravely.

"Lady?" Yule scoffed. "Please, that's the worst blonde wig I've ever seen." He turned to address Cameron. "If you're ever going to be a convincing drag queen, you're going to have to grow out your own hair."

"Drag Queen?!" Wilson exclaimed, as Cameron was apparently too stunned to speak. "She's not … we're not…"

"Your lips say no, but those loafers say you want to dance," Arnie said. He grabbed Wilson and dragged him out on the dance floor.

Yule smirked at Arnie and Wilson, pressed closely together, as they did a clumsy tango. He grabbed Cameron by the arm and began pulling her toward the dance floor.

"Hey, that's my princess!" House shouted. "Get your own!"

"Let go of me," Cameron struggled against Yule. House made an attempt to get to Cameron, but Sebastian stole his cane from his very grasp.

"You don't stand a chance," Sebastian told him. "You're so old."

Although not how he'd meant it, Sebastian's words hit House like an arrow striking a bullseye. They were targeted at a particularly difficult area to reach, his heart. He was stunned into inaction.

Cameron, however, was incensed. She ripped free from Yule's grasp, lunged for Sebastian and grabbed House's cane from him.

"And you're so young," she seethed at him. "And so obviously inexperienced. What makes you think you'd stand a better chance?" she demanded. Sebastian looked around nervously and Cameron moved closer to him. "I bet you're a virgin." Sebastian gasped and fled.

"And you," Cameron turned on Yule viciously, "you're short, preachy and pedantic. No one in that outfit should _ever_ feel they have the right to give fashion advice. If you think that ponytail and hat are convincing anyone you're not going bald, you'd better think again. At least he had the sense to go with it," Cameron jerked a thumb at Arnie, who had stopped dancing and allowed Wilson's escape. Arnie laughed.

"I bet your wife wouldn't think it was funny if she knew this was where you were hanging out," Cameron spat at Arnie.

"How did you know?" Arnie gasped, not even bothering to refute her.

"If you're going to wear pants that tight, you shouldn't put the ring in your pocket. I can see the outline from here, among other things," Cameron said, her voice dripping with disgust.

She handed House his cane and walked toward the exit. House and Wilson meekly followed. She paused at the door, letting House and Wilson exit first, and then gave her parting shot.

"If I were a drag queen, I'd be the prettiest one you'd ever see."

Cameron walked out the door and stopped short, surprised to see House and Wilson standing just outside. She looked at both of them and walked daintily up the stairs. Wilson started to follow her, but House pushed him aside.

"Timeout," he called up to Cameron, rushing the stairs in his desire to get another piece to the puzzle this woman was presenting him.

"I hate sports references," Cameron said over her shoulder.

"That was awesome," House said as he breached the final stair.

"That was rude and unnecessary," Cameron responded, still not looking at him and walking toward the motorcycle.

"Yeah!" House said in a tone that indicated that was the very essence of its awesomeness.

Cameron turned around finally and faced him.

"Where did you learn to snark like that?"

"When a girl lives alone, she has to learn how to shoot down unwelcome advances," Cameron said simply.

"Yeah but," House cringed and leaned heavily against his cane. Suddenly Cameron's eyes widened as she realized he had charged up the stairs after her and obviously strained his leg. Wilson was finally catching up to them and she could tell by how House gripped his cane tightly he didn't want to make a scene.

"Your leg," she began but he cut her off.

"Its fine," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"It's not fine," she insisted.

"What's not fine?" Wilson asked as he reached the duo.

"Dr. Wilson, would you mind terribly going to the pharmacy down the street and getting some antacids?" Cameron asked, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

"Of course, Cameron," Wilson said and walked dutifully down the street, unable to resist a damsel in distress.

"What are the antacids for?" House asked.

"For getting rid of Wilson," Cameron replied. "I assume you didn't want him to make a fuss over your leg."

"I said its fine," House said.

"You're lying."

"Everybody lies."

"You won't be able to drive like that," Cameron said sensibly. She motioned to a nearby bench on the sidewalk. "Let me massage it for you."

"No," House said resolutely.

"Just come and sit down," Cameron said, laying a hand on his arm and trying to gently steer him toward the bench.

"I said no thanks," House said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange vial. He popped the top, removed a pill and swallowed it with a practiced ease that made Cameron's heart ache for his pain. "See, happiness can be bottled."

"Whatever that was is going to take time to relieve your pain," Cameron said, once more placing a hand on his arm. "Just let me help you." She began pushing him slightly.

"What you're doing is the opposite of helping," House said.

"Well, what would you suggest?"

"I'd suggest you leave me alone!" House said. Cameron became frustrated and seriously pushed him toward the bench. He stumbled, not really expecting her to get violent. He grabbed at her to avoid falling, and managed to pull her with him as both toppled onto the bench together, he on his back and she mostly draped over him.

House stared at Cameron's face, inches from his own. He was drawn to her lips, so pink and sweet. He wondered if they tasted as much like strawberries as they looked.

Cameron stared at House's face, inches from her own. She was drawn to his eyes, so deep and blue. She wondered if they closed when he was kissing someone or stared into their very soul.

"Ahem," Wilson said. "If you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask."

"What? No!" House said, sitting up on the bench and pushing Cameron to the other side. "That's the last thing on my mind."

Cameron seized this opportunity to massage his thigh while Wilson was distracting him.

"The princess was just … oh, no don't, ah, aaahhh," House said, losing his protest in the pressure and warmth of Cameron's hands on his leg.

Wilson made a face at House's face, and then made a worse face.

"Ugh, good thing I bought these antacids," he said, placing a hand on his stomach. He popped open the top and tipped the container over his mouth, crunching the tablets that shook out. He climbed into the sidecar and closed his eyes, actually hoping, as disturbing as it was, that Cameron would keep massaging House's leg for a little while.

At least it would give his stomach a chance to settle down. Before any other nauseating scenes between the two of them occurred.

…_**JellyBean30**_


	12. The Weedrat Diner

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**12 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

**_Chapter 12 – The Weedrat Diner_**

After an hour of driving, House steered the bike into a rest area for a break. Both Cameron and Wilson were surprised to be stopping so soon, but House claimed he needed a restroom. Truthfully, he wanted a little more time to observe this Dr. Cameron. She had intrigued him and even though her riding on the bike behind him was definitely … pleasant …he couldn't subtly fish for information just from having her legs wrapped around him. Unless, of course, you considered the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra and had great thighs to be information. Not that he did, because he didn't.

Cameron walked through the sea of cars, her blonde braid swinging saucily across her back. House followed closely behind. Wilson was a few paces behind them, dragging his right foot along the pavement in an attempt to wipe what he _really_ hoped was gum, off the bottom of his shoe. Cameron arrived at the door and reached her hand out, only to have it open before her. She looked up and to the right, where House's cane was holding the door open for her to enter. She smiled up at him and walked through, House following closely behind her again. He let the door go, and Wilson, who was still trying to get a look at the bottom of his precious loafer, walked straight into it as it closed.

Cameron and House separated to use their respective restrooms. House was finished first, naturally, and stood uncertainly outside the ladies room, trying not to look like a crazed stalker and wondering what, except the mechanics, kept women in there for so long.

She exited and stood before him. They stared at each other, neither speaking, until finally House nodded his head in the direction of the exit. Cameron struck off in that general direction, but veered left when she should have veered right. House stopped and watched her disappearing into the crowd before rolling his eyes in frustration and following after her.

There were several thin, blonde heads walking in front of him and despite his amazing observational skills, House realized he had no idea which one was Cameron. He stopped and scanned the throng of people, hoping some little detail would jump out. Or more realistically that she would turn around looking for him.

Instead she snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, whacking a few stray shins with his cane in the process, and couldn't help but smirk. She was wearing a pair of those ridiculously enormous sunglasses and looking completely serious about it. It was rather…cute, in a juvenile sort of way. Then she grinned at him and he turned his face away quickly. Nobody but Wilson had seen him laugh in years and he wasn't going to just initiate her into 'The House is Not Completely Soulless Club' without a little more probing into her qualifications.

He was so intent on not laughing at her glasses he almost failed to notice the cotton candy she was holding. He looked pointedly at her empty hand until she got the idea that he was insulted she hadn't bought him one too. She rolled her eyes and handed hers to him. He took it, his fingers grazing over hers slightly, lingering just a second or two longer than strictly necessary. He told himself it was because he would hate to drop the cotton candy and waste good sugar, but the fluttering in his stomach disagreed.

She smiled at him and they walked toward the exit. This time she held the door for him, since both his hands were now occupied. But once outside and crossing the lot toward the bike, she gave him a gentle push with her hip. He retaliated by elbowing her, perhaps a little more forcefully than he'd intended. She stumbled and bumping into a parked car, setting off the alarm.

She righted herself and looked around guiltily for the owner. A harried looking dad with a screaming baby strapped to his chest began walking quickly in their direction. Cameron grinned viciously. She stole the cotton candy from House and ran off, shooting a caustic "Race you to the bike" over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and limped gamely after her, abandoning the car and its bleating alarm gladly. By the time he reached the bike, she had taken off the glasses and was leaning against the machine casually. He couldn't believe how hot she looked, despite the slightly bookish blouse and vest she was sporting. He grabbed the cotton candy back and bit off the last few wispy pieces. He tossed the paper cone on the ground and climbed onto the bike. He clipped his cane to the side and then waited impatiently as she picked up the paper cone and jogged to the nearest trash can to throw it away. She picked up the helmet and donned it, then climbed on the bike behind him and held on as he sped away.

Minutes later, Wilson was turning in slow circles in the empty parking space. He was sure the bike had been right here.

House and Cameron pulled up beside him and stopped so he could climb into the sidecar. Wilson glared when he realized they'd driven off without him. House just looked away while Cameron blushed and apologized profusely.

* * *

House pulled the bike over onto an overlook. Cameron climbed off the back of the bike and stood beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. They looked out on the city sprawled before them. They were barely an hour outside of the city, and Lord Vogler's tower was widely visible.

"There it is," House said a touch forlornly.

"That's Princeton?" Cameron asked quietly.

"That's the King's Tower, in the heart of Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital," Wilson said from his place in the sidecar. "Vogler said it was to give the hospital a more prominent feel."

"Hmm," was all Cameron said in reply.

"Speaking of Vogler, he's waiting for you," House said. "We should probably be going."

"Well, sure, but ….House?" Cameron hesitated.

"Yes Mistress?" House boomed at her.

"I'm … worried about Wilson," Cameron blurted, and then cringed. It was so stupid.

"What?" House asked, sincerely confused.

"Well, look at him," Cameron said rather desperately. "He doesn't look so good."

"Meh," House said, shrugging his shoulders. Wilson pursed his lips.

"He's been chewing those antacids all day. Persistent heartburn," Cameron said, hoping to draw him into a DDX.

"Hmm…can't be the food, we all ate the same meal and both of us are fine," House mused, hoping that he was correctly catching Cameron's intention to stall her arrival in Princeton. He wasn't sure he really wanted to contemplate why she might do that, especially while her hand was still on his shoulder. Better to concentrate on Wilson.

"You know, I didn't want to say anything, but you look like crap," House said to Wilson.

"It's just heartburn," Wilson said huffily.

"It could be a hiatal hernia," Cameron offered.

"I don't have a hernia," Wilson said.

"So what causes hiatal hernias?" House asked Cameron, completely ignoring Wilson's protests that he was fine.

"Pregnancy, strenuous exertion…we can probably rule both of those out. Obesity, tight clothing …not those either," Cameron mused, searching for anything she could come up with. "Actually, Wilson, you're a little on the thin side."

"Thin body, persistent heartburn," House ruminated. He turned to look at Wilson and Cameron shifted. She removed her hand from his shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest, apparently her 'doctor mode'. House wasn't exactly happy at the loss of contact, but it did allow his brain to resume its higher functioning and consider a possible diagnosis. "Could be mitochondrial neurogastrointestinal encephalopathy syndrome."

"What?" Wilson scoffed.

"You think?" Cameron asked in perfect seriousness.

"I did notice his eyelids drooping last night and early this morning," House said, as if that clinched his theory.

"I was tired," Wilson said, rolling his eyes.

"Drowsiness," House said.

"Irritability," Cameron added. "I'm thinking aromatic amino acid decarboxylase deficiency."

"Nice," said House, turning and giving her a genuine smile of appreciation.

"You guys are starting to freak me out," Wilson said, just a touch of concern in his voice.

"Anxiety," House said, still staring at Cameron. "That settles it; we're stopping for the night."

"I saw a motel down the road," Cameron offered.

"There's probably a diner nearby," House posited. Cameron climbed onto the bike behind House and he revved the engine.

"Guys?" Wilson asked. "You're just messing with me, right?"

Neither answered him as Cameron wrapped her arms around House and he sped off into the late afternoon sunlight.

* * *

House and Cameron stepped out of The Weedrat Diner, a dive of a restaurant oddly reminiscent of The Blue Oyster, with Styrofoam containers in their hands. Wilson, if not completely convinced he was ill at least uncertain enough to decide against dinner, was at the motel across the street taking a cool bath to soothe his nerves.

It was a nice evening, and Cameron wanted to eat at one of the picnic tables in front of the diner. House had rolled his eyes, but resisted making a comment. He had dragged Cameron across the street and into the diner, then proceeded to shush her while he ordered their food and limped away leaving her to pay. Cameron had done so with a smirk, and then jabbed him in the stomach with one of the containers.

The two sat at the picnic table and House dove into his meal without standing on ceremony. Cameron peered into her sandwich a little suspiciously. She finally decided to just trust him. After all, it couldn't be any worse than breakfast.

"Hey, this is really good," Cameron said after a few bites. "What is it?"

"It's a sandwich," House deadpanned.

Cameron threw a french fry at him.

"I meant, what kind of sandwich, jerk," she said.

"It's a Rueben," House said through a mouthful of corned beef. "You never had one?"

"I don't eat a lot of meat," Cameron said lightly. House shook his head. Of course she didn't. He looked up and noticed her staring wistfully and maybe a little sadly at The King's Tower. It's shadow, although not actually visible from their vantage point, seemed to loom over them none the less. "I guess I'll be dining a little differently tomorrow night."

"Well, maybe some night if you don't have to get straight home to hubby, we could have dinner at the lab," House suggested. He hated that his voice sounded uncertain. "I hate to cook, but I've got a few places that deliver on speed dial. We can get your junk food fix. And then, after dinner, maybe we can go for a ride."

"I'd like that," Cameron said softly.

House squirmed a little in his seat, becoming uncomfortable in more ways than one. He decided to deflect it.

"And then we could take the bike out," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Cameron stuck out her tongue and House looked away with a smirk.

"Cameron," he started.

"Yes, House," she replied.

"I was wondering …" he glanced at her quickly and then looked away again. "Are you …" He looked at her again and this time their eyes met. He panicked. "Are you going to eat those?" he asked, pointing at her fries.

Cameron smiled a little, and picked up her fries to hand them to him. He laid his large hand over hers to take the container. She stared at him intently, feeling the electricity she remembered from their rides on the bike as his fingers lingered over hers. He leaned forward slightly, she shifted toward him.

"Isn't this the perfect evening?" Wilson said from behind Cameron. She dropped the container of fries on the table and House jerked his hand back guiltily. "Just look at that sunset."

"Sunset?!" Cameron exclaimed. She leapt from the bench at the table and began backing away. House stood up and limped a few steps to follow her. "It's late, it's very late."

"What?" House asked, puzzled.

"I …"

"Now I see what's really going on here," Wilson said and a look of pure panic swept over Cameron's face that intrigued House to no end. "You have nyctophobia, don't you?"

"Yes, nyctophobia. It's terrible, embarrassing really. I should go inside," Cameron said as she retreated from the two men. She paused to check for traffic, and threw House a longing look over her shoulder. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," House said softly as he watched her cross the street and enter the motel.

"Now I see what's really going on here," Wilson said smugly.

"Oh what are you talking about?" House asked, turning away from the motel and busying himself with cleaning up the discarded containers from the diner.

"Oh stop, I've been married three times, I do have some instinct for this stuff and I can tell, you two are into each other," Wilson said, watching with amusement as House carefully wiped french fry crumbs off the picnic table.

"Maybe you really do need a DDX," House snarked. "I'm just bringing her back to Vogler."

"Oh. Oh boy. You're in trouble," Wilson grinned, pointing a finger in House's direction. House just rolled his eyes and looked away. "House, just go in there and tell her how you feel."

"There's nothing to tell," House said forcefully, waving a limp french fry in Wilson's direction. "Besides, even if I did tell her that I … well, you know …and I'm not saying I do, 'cuz I don't … she's a princess and I'm …"

"An old, bitter useless cripple," Wilson said softly.

"Yeah," House said equally softly. He threw the containers in they nearby trash can. "A cripple."

He turned and limped off.

"House!" Wilson called. "Where are you going?"

"To get … away," House said and continued limping down the street without looking back.

He continued walking until he'd turned the corner. He sat down on the stoop of an old apartment building and watched the sunset fade and turn to night.

**_...by jellybean30_**


	13. Who Hurt the Princess?

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**13 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

**_Chapter 13 – Who Hurt the Princess?_**

Wilson shook his head resignedly and walked across the street to the motel. They so obviously felt something for each other. He could understand Cameron's reluctance, at least partly. House was not exactly the sort of guy women flocked to. And she was on her way to meet her future husband. But what was stopping House? He wasn't normally the timid type; he'd never been one to shy away from fighting for something he wanted. And he so clearly wanted her. There was something deeper going on, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He passed through the lobby while he mulled it over, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he tried to puzzle out his best course of action. House would be nearly impossible to talk to, and trying to convince him to do something he was resisting was tantamount to trying to catch a moonbeam in a jar. _Well, if you can't bring Mohammed to the mountain, _Wilson thought. Maybe Cameron would be easier to talk to.

He approached her room slowly, mentally rehearsing the conversation. If nothing else, his years of friendship with House had taught him to expect the unexpected and be ready to combat it. When he felt he had considered all her possible objections and he was prepared to argue it out with her, he knocked on the door.

"Cameron?" he called when there was no answer. He tried the handle, and found the door open. "Cameron?"

He entered the room, making as much noise as possible. He didn't want to frighten her. It was pitch black, which seemed odd considering she'd just announced her fear of the dark to them. Why wouldn't she have all the lights on? _Great, stubborn and she's a masochist. She and House were made for each other,_ Wilson thought.

"Allison?" He walked through the small sitting area, stumbling and bumping into furniture awkwardly. "You know, for someone with nyctophobia you sure keep your room dark."

He heard an oddly familiar thumping sound, and turned to check that House hadn't followed him into the room. There was no one behind him, and yet he was positive he'd heard House's cane.

He reached the door to her bedroom and knocked. At his fist's first contact with the door, it swung open, revealing an inky blackness beyond.

"Cameron, why are all the lights out?" Wilson called into the room. "Either you're the most self-suffering nyctophobe ever, or you lied to us."

"Wilson, please just go away," Cameron's voice floated to him. He could hear that thumping sound again, coming from her direction. Could House have gotten to her room ahead of him? He felt along the wall until he found a switch. _Oh my god, what am I walking in on?_

"Cameron, I'm turning the light on," Wilson said, one hand poised over his eyes for easy concealment should he find a scene before him better left to someone else's imagination.

"No, Wilson, don't!" Cameron protested, but too late.

Wilson flipped the switch and both he and Cameron gasped.

Her leg!!

Wilson stared, open-mouthed. Cameron's left leg was…wrong. She seemed to be slightly shorter on that side, and her foot was turned in at an odd angle. But most confusing, she had a crutch. A metal crutch, the variety that had an arm socket and handle.

Cameron was crippled!!!

"Oh my god, what happened?" Wilson gushed, unable to comprehend how she could have been so hurt in such a short space of time.

"Nothing happened," Cameron tried to assure him.

"Nothing happened?" Wilson shouted. "Cameron, your leg. What are your other symptoms?" Frantically, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began fumbling with it.

"No, Wilson, please, it's okay," Cameron pleaded.

"House, pick up!" Wilson shouted at the phone. "Cameron, we'll figure this out. I have no idea how, but House can figure it out, I'm sure. Damn him and his stupid uncharged cell battery!"

"Ssshhh, Wilson, please. I don't want House to know," Cameron limped toward him and grabbed his arm.

"You don't … He's the best doctor you'll ever…. If anyone could …I need to sit down," Wilson said haltingly, letting Cameron take the phone from his hands. He sank onto Cameron's bed and began rubbing his neck furiously. "Cameron, what the hell is going on?"

"I've been this way as long as I can remember," Cameron said sadly, limping awkwardly to the bureau and staring at her reflection in the mirror.

"I may not be a world renowned diagnostician, but I'm pretty sure I would have noticed the limp and the cane before," Wilson said sarcastically.

"It only happens at night," Cameron said, avoiding Wilson's searching eyes reflected behind her. "After the sun goes down. **By night one way, by day another, this shall be the norm, until you find true love's first kiss, and then take love's true form**."

"I don't understand," Wilson said helplessly.

"It's a curse," Cameron said desperately, turning to face him. "When I was a little girl, a witch cast a spell on me. Every night, I become crippled. I was placed in a tower to await the day my true love would rescue me. That's why I have to marry Lord Vogler tomorrow before the sun goes down and he sees me." She limped back to the bed and slumped beside Wilson, crying softly.

"Cameron, it's okay. What …uh…what specifically are we dealing with here?" He placed a hand on her back, rubbing in small circles to try to calm her.

"Congenital hip dysplasia," Cameron replied. "It's generally considered a birth defect. I think she was counting on that, you know, to help her get away with it."

"Are you in pain?" Wilson asked gently, not wanting to upset her and yet instinctively wanting to do anything he could for her.

"No, not really," Cameron shook her head. "Well, sometimes, but …nothing like what House deals with."

"And you never…I mean, have you ever had treatment for it?" Wilson asked.

"No," Cameron shook her head again. "When I was younger, my mother once tried to get a doctor to help me but when he found out it was from a curse…" Cameron smiled bitterly. "He said his malpractice insurance didn't cover magical curse intervention, or alien autopsies."

She sighed heavily; all her life she'd been keeping this secret, but now that someone knew they might as well know it all. "After the doctors refused to help me, my father …my father sent me away to boarding school, where I could lock myself in my room at sunset. He agreed to pay for me to go to medical school, but there was a catch. Once I graduated, I had to lock myself away from the world and await my true love."

Wilson nodded sympathetically, wondering what alignment of the stars had predisposed him to friends with father issues.

"That's why the job at Dewey Screwem was so perfect," Cameron continued. "I hadn't really intended to go into research but … I really felt like I could make a difference, not just for one patient, but for the world if I could make a breakthrough in my research. I accepted their terms, even though they were strict, on the condition that I could live at the facility. I still had my work and if it was a little lonely locking myself away every night well…I knew someday my Prince would come."

"Well, as curses go, it's not so bad," Wilson said diplomatically and slowly, his mind running miles ahead of his mouth. "You're only like this at night, and as you said, it's been a great opportunity for your work."

"Wilson, don't you see? I'm a princess, and this is not how a princess is meant to be," Cameron sobbed.

"Cameron, what if you didn't marry Vogler?" Wilson said thoughtfully.

"I have to," Cameron cried. "Only my true love's kiss can break the curse."

"How do you know Vogler is your true love?" Wilson asked. He agreed with House, Vogler couldn't be trusted as far as he could be thrown, which unless you were Andre the Giant wasn't very damn far. The thought of sending Cameron off to marry him made Wilson sick.

"When my father sent me away, he told me my true love was from Princeton, so I would recognize him when he came. It has to be Vogler."

"You know, House is from Princeton. And as far as your …condition, well you're disabled and House…." Wilson let his voice trail off, but he could tell from Cameron's expression she had already considered that perhaps Vogler wasn't her true love.

"House?" Cameron repeated stupidly. House couldn't be her true love, he didn't even like her. Right?

* * *

House stopped in the motel lobby and looked around. The night desk clerk had nodded off, his chin on his chest and thin line of drool running across his cheek. House grabbed and handful of flowers from a vase on a nearby table and limped down the hall toward Cameron's room.

"Princess …no. Cameron, I saw these flowers and I thought you might like them because you're a girl and …no." He stopped just outside Cameron's room and took a deep breath. "Wilson's right, I'm in trouble."

House tapped his cane on the floor a few times, puffed his cheeks and finally moved to the door.

The door was ajar, and her room was strangely black considering she'd just confessed her fear of the dark. House leaned in and heard voices.

"Who could ever love some who was crippled and useless?" Cameron's voice ripped through him. "Princess and crippled don't go together, that's why I can't stay here with House. My only chance to live happily ever after is to marry my true love." House slumped against the door frame, staring forlornly at the flowers in his hand. "Don't you see Wilson, that's just the way it has to be."

House shoved himself roughly off the wall and limped away, dropping the flowers quickly, as if it physically hurt to hold them.

* * *

"It's the only way to break the curse," Cameron continued to Wilson, unheard by House.

"Well you at least have to tell House the truth," Wilson said.

"No, Wilson, you can't say a word, no one must ever know," Cameron begged.

"Cameron, I can't keep this kind of secret from him."

"Wilson, promise me, please, promise you won't tell him," Cameron pleaded, grabbing onto Wilson's hands.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly. "I won't tell him. But you should."

Cameron turned away and Wilson exited her room, muttering to himself about a migraine. She followed him to the door and looked curiously at the discarded bouquet of flowers on the floor in the hall. She picked them up and sniffed them delicately. Daisies, her favorites.

**_...jellybean30_**


	14. The Proposal

**Title:**A Tale by the Sisters Hameron Book 1  
**Chapter:**14 of 18  
**Authors:**jellybean30 and daisyb10  
**Rating:**T  
**Warnings:**Suitable for Teens. 13 years +  
**Pairings:**House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy  
**Summary:**A Housian adaptation of Shrek.  
**Disclaimer:**We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.

Chapter 14 – The Proposal

Cameron paced nervously and awkwardly across the threadbare carpet of her motel room. The pristine bed behind her was evidence of her sleepless night. She simply hadn't been able to discount the things Wilson had said. Of course, House could be her true love. She'd been drawn to him from the moment he first revved the engine of his motorcycle outside her window, and nothing he'd said or done since had given her any reason to feel otherwise.

But he didn't want her.

Or did he? Cameron couldn't help but think about the little thrill she'd felt pressed against him on the bike, the wind blowing past them as she clung to his sinewy frame. Or the moment their fingers brushed when she passed him the coffee mug in the diner, when her heart had felt as though it might burst out of her chest. Or that precarious fall onto the park bench when she'd tried to massage his leg that made … well, other things want massaging. And at dinner, she had been so sure he wanted to ask her something that wasn't about french fries.

She glanced at the clock. The sun would be rising soon. She'd already shared her secret with Wilson. House should know the truth too.

She limped down the hall toward House's room, eager to see if she'd been right and he was feeling the same things she felt. But when she arrived, the door was propped open by the maid's service cart and House was nowhere to be seen.

Hoping he was outside, Cameron limped down the hall, through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk. Just as she cleared the canopy over the motel's front door, the first tentative rays of sunshine breached the skyline and fell upon her.

Cameron was surrounded in a flurry of tiny, white lights and a gentle gust of wind as her leg magically straightened itself and the crutch she held faded to nothingness. The sun had risen, and once more she was temporarily healed.

A motorcycle engine revved in the distance and Cameron watched anxiously as House pulled up in front of her.

"House," she greeted him, but he simply removed his helmet and placed it on the back of his bike without reply. Now standing, he unclipped his cane and began limping toward the motel entrance.

"House," Cameron said, laying a hand on his arm to stop him. She was shocked not to feel the familiar spark but instead a cold wave run through her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," House clipped. "Never been better."

Cameron frowned as he shrugged her hand off and walked past her, his words and his tone in discord. She shook her head. "I … I have to tell you something."

"You don't have to tell me anything," House rounded on her, furious and hurt. "I heard enough last night."

"You, you heard what I said?" Cameron asked, confused as to why he was so angry. Because she had lied? Because she had told Wilson? "But … I thought you would understand."

"I understand," House said. "Like you said, who could love a useless cripple?"

Cameron was floored. He didn't really feel that way. "But," she gasped. "I thought that wouldn't matter to you," she whispered.

"Yeah, well, it does," House spat.

Cameron struggled to bite back tears. How could he say that? Of all people, House should be able to understand her reluctance to share her secret. He was the one who was trying to shut out the world to keep them from pitying him and his disability. Why was it so wrong for her to do the same?

A second, louder revving of engines caught Cameron's attention.

"Great, right on time," House said. "Princess, I've brought you something," he sneered.

Cameron looked down the street and saw an impressive motorcade. Four police motorcycles provided an escort before and after two impossibly long, silver limousines. The motorcade stopped just as the first limousine was in front of the motel. Cameron watched in apprehension as six men and women, dressed in impeccably styled suits, climbed out and stood tensely. The driver of the second limousine hurried around to the door and opened it with a deep bow. A mousy looking woman, the archetypal secretary, climbed out carrying a portfolio of papers and moved quickly to one side.

The arrival of the motorcade had apparently drawn the attention of more than just House and Cameron, as Wilson now joined them outside, muttering a sleepy greeting.

"What did I miss?" Wilson looked around at the bevy of suits and slunk quietly behind House.

A pair of feet emerged from the open car door. The expensive loafers put Wilson's shoes to shame. Cameron watched in awe as a huge, no an enormous … a man of impressive stature exited the limo.

"Princess Allison," the man said, in a sonorous tone that reminded Cameron of her father's old Barry White albums.

"As promised," House butted in before Cameron could even respond. "Now hand it over."

"Very well, House, the deed to your lab, land and all, cleared out as agreed," the man said. He snapped his fingers, and the mousy secretary handed House the portfolio. He took it from her brusquely and limped toward his bike without so much as a thank you. "Take it and go, before I change my mind."

Cameron looked on in shock. House was taking a payoff to deliver her to Vogler.

"Forgive me for startling you, Princess," the man continued, and Cameron ripped her gaze from House's back to concentrate on what was being said to her. "But you startle me, as I have never seen such a radiant beauty before. I am Lord Vogler."

"Lord Vogler," Cameron said. "No, I'm sorry; I was just saying a short goodbye."

"That's sweet," Vogler said, smiling beatifically, glancing at House who was taking his time in securing his paperwork in the bike. "But you don't have to waste good manners on House. It's not as if he has feelings."

House stilled, waiting for Cameron's response.

"No, you're right. He doesn't," she said coldly and House slammed the bike's storage compartment shut.

"Princess Allison," Vogler said. He shuffled a bit, seeming to consider whether to get down on one knee. Perhaps wisely, given his size, he decided to remain standing. "Beautiful, flawless Allison, I offer you my hand in marriage. Will you be the perfect bride for the perfect groom?"

House clipped his cane to the bike and turned around. His eyes locked with Cameron for a moment, and he fought the urge to shout 'NO!'

"Lord Vogler," Cameron said, in a cool, calculated tone, "I accept. Nothing would make me…"

"Excellent," Vogler interrupted her. House climbed onto the bike and reached behind him for his helmet. "I'll start the plans, for tomorrow we wed!"

"No!"

House paused with the helmet nearly on. He turned and looked at Cameron, lowering the helmet to rest between his legs and staring at her. No?

"Why wait?" Cameron said, and House withered. "Let's get married today, before sunset."

House slammed the helmet onto his head, and watched with steely eyes as Cameron and Vogler climbed into the limousine, Vogler barking orders at his secretary as they began making nuptial plans. The motorcade drove off with a rumble of engines.

"House," Wilson shouted, hurrying to the motorcycle. "What are you doing? You're letting her get away!"

"Yeah, so what?" House growled.

"House, there's something about her that you don't know," Wilson said, ready to betray Cameron's confidence and spill his guts if it meant stopping this travesty of a wedding. "I talked to her last night…"

"I know you talked to her last night, you're great pals, aren't you?" House shouted. "Now if you two are such great friends, why don't you follow her home?"

"But, House, I'm coming with you," Wilson protested weakly.

"Hey, I told you this was only temporary. Well here's the temporary part. The lab is finally mine, and I'm going there alone. Me. Nobody else. Especially not pathetic, useless, annoying, back-stabbing oncologists!!" House bellowed.

"But … I thought," Wilson began.

"Yeah, well you thought wrong," House said coldly.

He started the motorcycle and sped off. The storage compartment popped open and the portfolio Vogler's secretary had given him flew out, scattering loose papers over the concrete at Wilson's feet.

"House," Wilson attempted to call, but gave up quickly. He sighed at the flutter of papers before him and reflected on much this mess resembled his life before stooping to gather them up.

**_...jellybean30_**


	15. Wedding Preparations

_**Chapter 15: Wedding Preparations**_

Cameron pressed her face against the dark tinted window of Vogler's limousine, straining to get a better look at the golden glass obelisk that rose from the centre of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

"We're here Princess Allison. I can tell you're quite impressed by your new home already," Vogler said proudly,  
offering his hand to Cameron.

"My home?" Cameron asked, "But, I thought _this_ was the hospital."  
"Oh it_ is,_ my dear. But my penthouse, or should I say _our_ penthouse, occupies the entire 10th floor of _The King's Tower_.   
It's magnificent, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But tell me, Lord Vogler … the vertical rows of black tinted windows are such an unusual design element.  
What is their purpose?"

"They're to draw the eye upwards, Princess …"  
"I see … they're an illusion of grandeur," Cameron said, with a wry smile.

"Something like that," grumbled Vogler. "Come along, I'll show you to your suite."

Vogler ushered Cameron up the stairs to the main entrance of PPTH where Nurse Brenda was waiting to greet them.  
His minions lined up behind him, awaiting further orders.

"Lord Vogler, I see that Dr. House was successful," Brenda commented, eyeing the attractive blonde woman by his side. Vogler scowled at the mention of House's name, but smiled as he addressed Cameron.

"Princess, may I present to you Nurse Brenda, my personal assistant and Head of Nursing here at PPTH. Nurse Brenda, this is my fiancée, Princess Doctor Allison Cameron."

"How do you do?" Cameron said, extending her hand politely to Nurse Brenda.  
"Your highness …" Nurse Brenda replied, awkwardly curtseying before Cameron.

"Oh, you needn't curtsey, Nurse Brenda, I just keep the Princess part quiet …" Cameron began, trying to put Brenda at ease.

"Nonsense!" boomed Vogler. "Everyone must know that my bride is a Princess!  
Marjorie, issue a memo. From this moment forth all staff are ordered to address Princess Alison by her full title – Princess Doctor Cameron. That is, until she becomes Princess Doctor Vogler later today."

"Yes, Lord Vogler," Marjorie said with a nod, as she scurried off to her office.

"Actually, Lord Vogler, I'll be keeping my own name when we wed," began Cameron.

Vogler could feel the rage beginning to churn inside his substantial gut.

_Impudent bitch!  
How __**dare**__ she not want to take my name?  
Steady … don't scare her off. You __**need**__ her!  
You'll have plenty of time to show the young princess who's boss once she says "I do."_

"As you wish, Allison," Vogler replied, nearly gagging on his words, "as you wish."

Lord Vogler could not help but notice the admiring glances his princess received as they strode across the lobby to _The King's Tower_ elevators.

_You see? There's nothing to worry about. My plan's working already. A beautiful young wife is just what I need … and by sundown today, I __**will**__ be King!_

"Nurse Brenda, will you escort the Princess to her new home. The seamstresses await with the Royal wedding gown." Vogler bowed deeply to Cameron, then kissed her dainty hand. "I have some last minute arrangements to make for our wedding, my dear. I'll join you shortly, but in the meantime, you're in good hands with Nurse Brenda."

"Thank you, Lord Vogler."  
Cameron nodded her head slightly and stepped into the elevator. The doors closed quietly behind her.

Cameron realized she'd just traded one prison for another.

oOoOo

"Thanks, Ernie!" Wilson said, shaking the trucker's hand before leaping to the dusty highway,  
from the cab of _Smith's Sweetie Service_. "I really appreciate the lift!"

"Not a problem, Doc," Ernie replied, with a gap-toothed smile.  
"Here's my card. Remember if you ever need your septic tank pumped, give me a call."

"I will. Thanks," Wilson shouted, with a wave, as he began the long walk down Marshland Drive.

_I can't believe that House just left me … stranded … in the middle of nowhere …_

_Well actually, I can …_

Wilson trudged wearily across the sodden fields for almost an hour before arriving at the swamp,  
his progress slowed both by fatigue and the heaviness of his heart.

He stared at his reflection in the murky water as he swatted away at the swarms of mosquitoes attempting to feast on the exposed flesh on his face and neck. It really_ was_ a glorious day, despite the voracious insects. 

The sun shone brightly in an azure sky; nature's symphony surrounded him. Frogs were croaking, birds chirped merrily, a woman sobbed and squirrels chattered away as they chased each other from branch to branch of an ancient weeping willow.

_Whoa … back up. A woman's sobbing?_

Wilson pushed his way through the tangled underbrush and found her crouched on a fallen log at the water's edge.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

oOoOo

"This is your private suite, Princess Doctor Cameron. I hope that you're pleased with the decor," Nurse Brenda said, as she swung open the French doors leading a large sitting room overlooking the Princeton Canal. The room was the epitome of elegance. Furnished with the finest antiques she had ever seen, the chairs and loveseats were upholstered in pastel floral silk and the polished oak floors were accented throughout by luxurious Persian carpets.

"It's lovely, Nurse Brenda. Thank you."  
"I'll leave you now and arrange for your lunch, Princess."

"Thank you," Cameron said absentmindedly, her attention caught by the ornate crystal chandelier sparkling brilliantly above her head.

"Ahem." Cameron followed the sound to the dressing area where four women of various ages stood trembling.  
Upon her acknowledgment, the eldest of the four stepped forward.

"Princess Doctor Cameron? My name is Amelia Cullen. I am the owner of  
_Princeton Bridal Creations_. This is my assistant Emily, and my two seamstresses, Victoria and Julia. We're here to fit you for your bridal gown."

"I'm so pleased to meet you," Cameron said. "I suppose we should get started and do call me Alli …" Cameron paused, remembering Vogler's orders. "Do call me Princess Allison."

"Thank you. Here is the Royal wedding gown. Emily?" Madam Cullen said with pride, pointing in the direction of a three-way mirror.  
Emily clapped her hands twice and the two seamstresses removed the muslin sheet that protected the dressmaker's form.

Cameron's eyes lit up when she saw her dress.  
It was a long-sleeved A-line gown featuring a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline.  
But it's simplicity did not detract from its elegance.

It was made of pure ivory silk and had been lovingly trimmed with golden embroidery and accented in shimmering crystals. Its overskirt split in front into an inverted vee, revealing an underskirt of pale pink satin.

"Do you like your gown, Princess Allison?" Madam Cullen asked anxiously.  
Cameron's smile brought a sigh of relief from the four women. "I do, very much."

"Excellent, excellent. Victoria … Julia … let the fitting begin!"

oOoOo

"Dr. Wilson?" Cuddy said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.  
Wilson sat beside her on the log and took her hand in his.  
"I'm very happy to see you. I've been thinking about you … a lot.  
How did you find out my name?"

"The license plate on Dr. House's motorcycle and my security tapes at Dewey Screwem. You two are quite well known in the medical community. It wasn't difficult to find out who you are. I've been searching everywhere for you. There was no answer at the CRIPPLED laboratory when I knocked on the door a little while ago."

Wilson shook his head with disgust. "House and I had a bit of a falling out, you might say. He abandoned me in the middle of nowhere and I had to hitchhike my way back home. But House is there. I'd bet my life on it. He's just not answering the door, which is typical behaviour for him, I might add," Wilson said bitterly.

"So Dr. Cameron is with Dr. House then? Is she safe?" Cuddy asked hopefully.  
"She's fine. But she isn't with House. She's with Lord Vogler." 

"Who's Lord Vogler?"  
"He's the administrator of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I'm Head of Oncology there … or at least I was until a few days ago. Anyway, he's the one who sent us to bring Dr. Cameron to Princeton. They're getting married today."

Cuddy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And she agreed to this marriage?"  
"Yes, she did. I was there when he proposed."

"Then I guess it was meant to be, " she said resignedly.  
"I just feel like I failed somehow. I was supposed to guard her and keep her safe. And I was successful for many years, until you and Dr. House came along," Cuddy said sadly.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Cuddy," Wilson said, brushing a wayward curl off her forehead.

She looked up at him, as a delicate blush crept over her face.  
"Call me Lisa."  
"Call me James."

Wilson's attraction to The Dragon Queen was undeniable.  
Her sexuality oozed from every delicate pore on her voluptuous body.

She gazed into his warm chocolate eyes as he drew her into his arms.   
Their lips met, hesitantly at first, until they could wait no more. They explored each other wantonly.  
His hands roamed freely over her sumptuous thighs then caressed her ample breasts through the silky fabric of her blood-red dress.

"James," Cuddy urged, in a breathy whisper. "Make love to me …"

Wilson swept Cuddy up into his arms and carried her over to a grassy knoll beneath a majestic oak …

oOoOo

"Damn those fairy-tale weirdo clinic patients!"  
"How did they manage to knock this off my wall?" House cursed.

House knew his soul was as broken as the shattered mirror that lay at his feet in the hallway.

He'd abandoned his best friend in his time of need. A friend who, despite his troubles, was willing to go on this ridiculous quest just to help House save his precious laboratory.

"When did I become such a coward? I'm nothing but a pathetic old cripple," House muttered, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "The princess was right. Who could ever love me?" he said, remembering the conversation he overheard between her and Wilson.

Foregoing the elevator for the stairs, he trudged up to his second floor kitchen and surveyed its well-stocked pantry.

_I've got all this food and no one to share it with. But we all know who's fault that is, don't we? Let's try one of these frozen pizzas._

House sat at his kitchen table with his head in his hands and rubbed his weary eyes.  
The pizza's spicy aroma invigorated him temporarily, until he remembered it was topped with Wilson's favourites – pepperoni and mushrooms.

Suddenly, he had no appetite.  
He pushed the plate away, accidentally nudging a vase that sat in the centre of the table.

_Daisies …  
I wonder what the Princess is doing right now … _

House looked at the remnants of his pizza on the plate, then crumpled the daisies on top of it.

"There's no point keeping these around," he grumbled and scraped the debris into the trash.

oOoOo

"Your lunch is served, Princess Doctor Cameron."  
"Thank you, Nurse Brenda."

Cameron sat alone at the head of a magnificent dining room table. She picked at her salad, scarcely eating a bite, unable to stop thinking about House.

_  
Could Dr. Wilson have been right?  
What if Lord Vogler isn't my true love? No, he must be.  
If House was my true love, how could he allow another man to propose to me so easily?  
How could he let me go?_

"Princess Allison?"  
Cameron turned to see Victoria and Julia standing in the doorway.  
"We've finished the alterations. Your wedding gown is ready."

Suddenly, she had no appetite.  
Cameron pushed her plate away.

"I'll be with you in a moment. Please meet me in my dressing room."

oOoOo

"I was destined to be King, don't you think, Magic Mirror?"  
"Undoubtedly, Lord Vogler, undoubtedly," the Magic Mirror replied, from his new home on the wall of Lord Vogler's dressing room.

"You look so regal, Lord Vogler," cooed Nurse Brenda.  
"I do, don't I?" he said, draping a purple velvet cape over his white Armani tuxedo.

"And now for the crowning touch, so to speak …"  
Nurse Brenda bore a jewel-encrusted golden crown on a royal blue velvet pillow

Vogler turned and crouched to allow Brenda to place the crown on his head.  
When his back was turned, Magic Mirror scowled at Vogler.  
It was an act that did not go unnoticed.

"Lord Vogler, Magic Mirror appears to want to say something to you."

Vogler looked in the mirror. "Yes, Magic Mirror, what is it?"

Magic Mirror glanced at Brenda, who was making faces at him behind Vogler's back.  
"I just wanted to say, how handsome you look, Lord Vogler."

"Why thank you, Magic Mirror."

"I hope that you and Princess Allison will have a long and happy life together."

oOoOo

"Oh James, that was wonderful …" purred Cuddy.  
"_You_ were wonderful, my love, " Wilson said, kissing Cuddy softly. "You have no idea how happy you've made me. Especially after all that's happened."

"Do you want to talk about it, darling? Is it House?"  
"No, it's not House. But I would like to talk about it, if you don't mind? I feel like I can tell you anything, " Wilson said sincerely.

"You can, James." Cuddy straightened her clothes and sat quietly, waiting for Wilson to speak.

"Remember I said that I used to be Head of Oncology at PPTH?"  
Cuddy nodded.

"Just days before we came on this quest, Vogler and his fancy lawyers trumped up a charge of sexual harassment against me. They threatened to destroy my career if I didn't resign. He wants me out of PPTH and I'm sure it has something to do with House."

"And _that's_ the man Allison is planning to marry? Why do you think it involves House?" Cuddy asked, deep in thought.

"I don't have any proof, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that his lupus research is a common thread in everything that's happened to us over the past few days. It all fits. House's clinical trials, Vogler wanting to shut down his lab, Cameron's research, and then there's the Dewey Screwem connection."

Wilson sat up sharply as he remembered a question he'd wanted to ask Cuddy.  
"Say, do you know Doogie Howe?"

"Howe? Of course I do. Dr. Howe is my VP of Sales. How do_ you_ know him?" asked a puzzled Cuddy.

"We went to med school together. He's a good friend of House's too. Howe was at the hospital visiting Vogler the day I was forced to resign."

Cuddy looked at Wilson. "But why would Howe be visiting a hospital administrator? It doesn't make sense."

"Howe said it was a social call, that his parents knew Vogler.  
But when Vogler asked after them, he called them by the wrong names. I couldn't believe it."

Wilson raked his fingers through his hair, trying to fathom just what was going on.  
"And now, Cameron's about to marry Vogler even though she's in love with House."

"She loves House?"  
"I'm pretty sure. And I know he loves her."

"James, you _have_ to talk to House, before it's too late."

Wilson stood and helped Cuddy to her feet.  
"I'll go right now. Will you wait for me?"

Cuddy reached into her purse. "Of course," she said, kissing Wilson tenderly.  
"Here's my card. Call me as soon as you're through.  
In the meantime, I'm going to call Howe and see if I can figure out how this puzzle fits together!"

oOoOo

"You look enchanting, Princess Allison," Julia said, as she watched Cameron twirl in her wedding gown.

"Thank you for everything, ladies. This gown is breathtaking."

"Then that is our cue to leave. Julia, Victoria, Emily … let's give the Princess some time to reflect, before her wedding begins," said Amelia.

"May you and Lord Vogler live happily ever after, Princess Allison."

_I thought my wedding day would be the happiest day of my life …  
How can I be so sad …_

She brightened when she noticed her wedding cake standing majestically in the corner of the room, but as she neared, her smile turned into a frown.

On top of the cake, beside her likeness, was a figurine of her groom, Lord Vogler.  
A tall, dark and handsome Lord Vogler.  
A tall, dark, handsome and _very slender_ Lord Vogler.

She removed a white fondant rose from the back of the cake and rolled it between her fingers like _Silly Putty_.   
Bit by bit, she carefully pressed the paste onto Lord Vogler's likeness until he resembled the _Pillsbury Dough Boy_.

Satisfied with her work, she placed "Lord Vogler" back on top of the cake, then returned to the three-way mirror.

Cameron placed her crown on top of her head then covered her face with her veil.

"At least this will hide my tears …" she whispered.


	16. That's What Friends Are For

_**Chapter 16: That's What Friends Are For**_

House sat at his piano in a hypnotic state, singing the same melancholy tune Wilson had mangled seven days ago.

Seven days.  
One Week.  
It seemed like an eternity.

_Livin' alone  
I think of all the friends I've known  
When I dial the telephone  
Nobody's home_

His rich baritone resonated through the loft as he began to sing the chorus,  
twisting the lyrics as the song unfolded.

_All by myself  
__**I wanna be**__  
All by myself  
__**For E-v-e-r-m-o-r-e**_

Though he sang at the top of his lungs, the unmistakable sound of a sledgehammer punctuated his refrain,  
jarring his consciousness with every blow.

"What the hell?" House hobbled down the stairs, opened the door and stood on his porch, zeroing in on the source of the disturbance.

Wilson.

House followed the CRIPPLED driveway to the mid-point of his lab, where the beginnings of a wall, consisting of a dozen wooden stakes and bright orange flagging tape, ran perpendicular from the building extending 50 feet into the distance.

House limped across the lawn to where Wilson was about to hammer the next stake and stared at him through steely blue eyes.

"Wilson? What are you doing?"

Wilson set down the sledgehammer and wiped the sweat from his brow.  
"I would think that you, of all people, would recognize a wall when you see one."

"Well, yeah. But the wall is supposed to go around my swamp, not through it. I called Rodney, and his crew is coming tomorrow to install it, so if you think you're helping …" House began.

"I figured you might try to pull a stunt like that, knowing what a greedy bastard you are," Wilson sneered.  
"Don't you realize it's not _your_ swamp anymore?"

"What? Are you insane?" shouted House.

"That's right, House. Only half of it is. See … that's _your_ half, and this is _my_ half. We're going to split this right down the middle. That's why I started over here," Wilson said pointing to the centre line of the CRIPPLED lab.

"So let me get this straight. You believe that you're entitled to half my property," House said thoughtfully. "Correct?"

"_Yes!_ _I_ helped rescue the princess._ I _did half the work, so_ I_ should get half of the reward. Now hand me that big rock over there. The one that looks like your head."

"No!" House was enraged. He flipped his cane horizontally, grabbed each end with his hands and pushed it with all his might into Wilson's chest.

"Back off, Wilson!"  
"No, you back off," Wilson shouted, shoving back.

"This is _**my**_ swamp!"  
"It's _**our**_ swamp."

"Let go!"  
"You let go!"

"Stubborn jackass!"  
"Smelly cripple."

The two struggled back and forth, when suddenly House smiled, anticipating Wilson's next thrust.  
"Fine!"  
He let go of the cane and stepped aside, sending Wilson crashing to the ground face first.

House flipped up his cane with his foot and limped back into CRIPPLED. Wilson picked himself off the ground and dusted off his clothing as he began his pursuit.

"Hey, hey, come back here. I'm not through with you yet!" Wilson slammed the door behind him as he followed House to the elevator.

"Well, _I'm _through with you", House snarked, as the elevator doors closed just as Wilson arrived.  
Wilson spun around and tore up the stairs, arriving at the top just as the doors re-opened.

He stood in front of House, with his hands on his hips, blocking House's passage down the hall.

"Uh-uh. You're not going anywhere," ordered Wilson.  
"This is _my_ house, Wilson and I'll do whatever I damn well please. Now get out of way!"

"_No_! You know, with you it's always, 'Me, me, me!'  
Well guess what? It's my turn to talk! So just shut up and pay attention.  
You're mean to me! You insult me and you don't appreciate anything I do for you! You're either pushing me around or pushing me away!"

House glared, as he pushed Wilson aside.  
"Oh, yeah? Well, if I treat you so badly, then why are you here?"

Wilson followed House as he strode purposefully down the hall.  
"Because that's what friends do! They forgive each other!"

House stopped so suddenly that Wilson barely avoided crashing into him. House straightened himself using every inch of his 6'3" frame to stare down at Wilson, who had the misfortune of being three inches shorter than House.  
"Oh, yeah. You're right, Wilson. I forgive you … for stabbin' me in the back!"

House flung open the bathroom door and closed it loudly behind him, securing the lock for good measure.

Wilson shook his head and sighed as he leaned against the door and slid to the floor, determined to get through to his friend.

He chuckled at the irony of the situation.  
"You know, it's funny. You're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings."

"Go away!" was House's muffled reply.

"There you go, doing it again, just like you did with Cameron.  
And all she did was love you."

"Love me?" Wilson heard the toilet paper rolling frantically. "She said I was ugly, a hideous cripple. I heard the two of you talking." The sound of the toilet flushing was followed by water running in the sink.

"She wasn't talking about you, House. She was talking about …" Wilson paused, not wanting to betray Cameron's confidence, "… um, somebody else."

House opened the door so quickly, that Wilson fell back on the floor rapping his head sharply on House's ceramic tiles. "Owww, that hurts!' he said, rubbing the back of his head, as House shoved his body aside with his cane.

"What are you doing on the floor? C'mon, get up. This is important! She wasn't talking about me? Well, then who was she talking about?"

Wilson turned his back to House and answered indignantly.  
"So now you're interested in hearing what I have to say … well forget it!  
My lips are sealed," Wilson said, pulling an imaginary zipper across his lips.

"Wilson! Tell me who the Princess was talking about!" House ordered.  
"No!" Wilson replied, holding his ground.

"Okay, look. I'm sorry, all right?" House sighed sadly, as he put his hand on Wilson's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a big, stupid, ugly cripple. Can you forgive me?"

Wilson turned and smiled at House. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"

"Right. Friends?" House said awkwardly, holding out his hand to Wilson.  
"Friends." Wilson replied, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "Here, you might need this …"

House turned over the portfolio that Wilson handed him and looked inside.  
"The deed to CRIPPLED?"

"It fell out of your bike's storage compartment when you sped off this morning."

House glanced at the papers.  
"I couldn't have rescued Cameron without your help, Wilson.  
I'll take this to a lawyer in the morning and have you added to the deed as co-owner."

Wilson smiled and shook his head. "That won't be necessary, House. I never wanted your property. I just wanted your friendship. CRIPPLED is your baby. She belongs to you."

House was stunned by Wilson's generosity.  
"Thank you. You'll always have a home and a job here for as long as you want."

"I appreciate that, House. It means a lot to me."  
There was an awkward silence as the two men paused, embarrassed by their emotions.

"So, um, Wilson, what _did_ the Princess say about me?" House asked, hesitantly.

Wilson knew he had been right all along. House was as much in love with the Princess as she was with him.  
"I think you should ask Cameron that question, don't you?" he suggested gently.

House looked at his watch. "The wedding! It starts in an hour! We'll _never_ make it in time!"

"Maybe we won't, House. But we're sure gonna try!" Wilson said, as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

oOoOo

"Perfect timing! Never fear, for where there's a will, there's a way and I _have_ a way!" Wilson shouted, as Cuddy roared up the driveway in her Ferrari.

"James! James, darling! " she cried. "We've got to stop the wedding!"  
"James, dar-ling?" House repeated, as he looked at Wilson and waggled his eyebrows.

"We're in love. Do you mind?" asked an exasperated Wilson.  
"Not at all. But it's not your animal magnetism that has her so turned on."  
House studied Wilson's face. "You have that fresh …."  
"House!" Wilson shouted, putting his hand over House's mouth.  
"You're glowing. What have you been doing since I left you this morning?  
Or should I say, who?" House chortled.

"James! There's no time to waste. I talked to Howe and you'll never believe what he told me!  
It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. House, by the way." Cuddy said, extending her hand to House.

"Likewise," House replied, not shaking her hand. "What did Howe say?"

"That Vogler _**owns**_ Dewey Screwem!"  
"What?" House asked incredulously.  
"That's a huge conflict of interest. The board would never have hired him if they knew."

"And there's more. Vogler fired Howe for talking to you, James. Don't you see? It's all starting to make sense.  
Vogler figured it was only a matter of time before you and House put two and two together. Dewey Screwem makes millions of dollars selling NSAIDs. House, if your cure for Lupus makes it to market, Vogler will lose a fortune."

"So that's why he was so interested in my clinical trials. But why would he give me the deed to CRIPPLED if he wants to shut me down?"

"I bet it's a fake," suggested Wilson. "I wouldn't put it past him and besides, he needed you to rescue the Princess."

"What Princess?" asked Cuddy.

"There's no time for this now. Cuddy, get out of the car!" House ordered, opening Cuddy's door.  
"I BEG your pardon? This is _my_ Ferrari, House!"  
"And there are three of us and only two seats and I'll be damned if I'm going to ride to the chapel on Wilson's lap."  
"There's no way you're driving my car!"  
"Look, I'm trying to save the love of my life. _Please, let me drive …"_ House begged.

Cuddy glanced over at Wilson, who nodded encouragingly before jumping into the passenger seat. Cuddy ran around to the other side of the car and leapt onto Wilson's lap. He immediately began smothering her with kisses.

"All right, all right. Don't get all slobbery, Wilson," House snarked, buckling himself in. "As enticing as Dr. Cuddy's posterior may be, nobody likes a kiss ass. Hold on tight, everyone!"

House revved the Ferrari and kicking it into gear, he tore down the driveway heading for the Princeton Canal.

In a few seconds, they were gone and all that remained were the clouds of dust that slowly settled to the ground in the waning light of the afternoon sky.

**_...daisyb10_**


	17. The Wedding

_**Chapter 17: The Wedding**_

"House, you drove right past the parking lot!"  
"I'm using the valet service today!"

House came to a screeching halt in front of the main hospital entrance and killed the engine.  
"C'mon you two lovebirds, get a move on. We've got a wedding to stop!"

Wilson and Cuddy stumbled out of the car, amidst tangled limbs and disheveled clothing.  
"You can't leave the car here, House. It's a fire zone."

"Those rules don't apply to Ferraris, Wilson," smirked House, as a black McLaren Mercedes roared up the driveway and parked directly behind them, "or Mercedes, for that matter."

"Dr. Cuddy?"  
"Dr. Howe?"  
"Jimmy?"  
"Doogie?"  
"Greg?"  
"Howe?"

"What are you doing here?" the four doctors said in unison, looking at one another.

"Okay, one at a time," House said impatiently. "We know why _we're_ here. Let Doogie go first."

"I have some more information for you, Dr. Cuddy. It appears that Lord Vogler has been embezzling funds from Dr. Cameron's research grants."

Cuddy looked at Howe with a puzzled expression on her lovely face.  
"What research grants? She hasn't received any for the past two years."

"Ah, but she has, Dr. Cuddy. I have the documents right here," Howe said, handing Cuddy a portfolio.

"Wait until I get my hands on Vogler …" Cuddy began.  
"The line starts behind me!" House said angrily.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Wilson?"  
"I'm afraid so," Wilson replied, turning to Cuddy. "Lisa, how did you communicate with Vogler?"

"I sent him regular updates via e-mail, so Vogler's definitely known about Dr. Cameron and her work for several years. I was told that the owner of _Dewey Screwem_ wished to remain anonymous. His e-mails to me were simply signed K.V."

"Some true love, eh House?" Wilson asked.  
"A real romantic," House replied sarcastically. "But why K.V.?"

"Don't know. I could see _L.V._, unless …" Wilson's voice drifted off as he thought.  
"Does anyone know what happens when a Lord marries a Princess?"

"James, are you saying that Dr. Cameron's a Princess?" asked a confused Cuddy.  
"Yes, darling, but it's a very long story. I'll have to tell you later."

"I think they become King and Queen," volunteered Howe.

Wilson smiled. "That's it! The Man Who Would Be King.  
_K.V. stands for King Vogler_. Vogler's just marrying Cameron so he can become King of Princeton-Plainsboro," Wilson said excitedly. "What do you think, House?"

"I think Vogler's going to be introduced to the business end of my cane _very, very_ _soon_."

oOoOo

"Wilson, we've got to hurry. We're almost there," House said, as they neared the hospital chapel.  
"Doesn't it seem awfully quiet to you?"

Wilson looked at the deserted corridor.  
"Something's not right." He opened the chapel door and shook his head.  
"There's not a soul in there."

"There must be someone who knows where the wedding is."  
Wilson flipped open his cell phone. "I'll call Marjorie …"

House tapped his cane impatiently, frustrated at his inability to help Cameron.  
"Is there any answer?"

"Hi Dr. Wilson."  
The men were shocked to see Cindy Palmer walking towards them.  
"Now _this_ could be awkward," House hissed to Wilson.

"Dr. House … hello. It's been a long time," Cindy said, giving House the once over before turning her attention to Wilson.

"How are you doing? I haven't seen you for a few days."  
Wilson backed away as he answered warily, "Well you know why that is, don't you Cindy?"

"Um … no, should I, Dr. Wilson?" replied the buxom blonde.

"I really don't think we should even be talking, considering the charges you filed against me with the hospital administration."

Cindy furrowed her brow. "I don't know what you're talking about. What charges?"

Wilson looked at House with astonishment. "The sexual harassment charges?"

"I never filed any charges against you, Dr. Wilson. Why would I do that?  
You've been nothing but a gentleman to me as long as I've known you.  
Unlike _some_ of the doctors around here who don't seem to be able to look me in the eye!" she said, glaring pointedly at House, who immediately stared at the ceiling.

"Would you be willing to testify to that in court?" Wilson asked.  
"Sure, but what's this all about?" Cindy asked, still very much confused.

"Oh it's Vogler …" began Wilson.  
"Vogler? Gee, I almost forgot. Dr. Wilson, I _have_ to go. I'm already late for the wedding," Cindy said, with panic in her voice. "Lord Vogler issued an order that all off-duty staff must attend his wedding to Princess Doctor Cameron."

"Where's the wedding, Cindy?" House asked desperately.  
"It's in _The King's Chapel_ … you know, in the new tower. I've got to run."

"Follow that blonde, Wilson!" House ordered, limping as fast as he could down the corridor.

"It was all a set-up … it was all a set-up …" Wilson muttered, over and over as he ran to catch up to with House.

_You've got a lot to answer for, Vogler …_

oOoOo

_The King's Chapel_ was filled to capacity with doctors and nurses from PPTH.

Nurse Brenda surveyed the crowd, glaring at any staff member who did not exude the correct degree of reverence that Lord Vogler demanded on this most auspicious occasion.

Lord Vogler and Cameron stood at the altar, before an ancient minister.

"_People of Princeton-Plainsboro, we gather here today to bear witness to the union …"_ he began.

"Um …", Cameron interrupted. The chancel was surrounded by magnificent stained glass windows through which Cameron could see the rapidly setting sun.

"_of our new King …"_ the minister continued.

"Excuse me. Could we just skip to the 'I do's'?" Cameron interrupted, more insistently this time.

Lord Vogler looked down at her with amusement as he chortled lasciviously.  
"I'm as anxious as you are to consummate our marriage, but _do_ try to be patient, my dear."

A wave of nausea wept over Cameron.

oOoOo

"I'm going in!" House announced, grabbing the handle of the chapel door.  
"Why don't you go check on Cuddy and Howe. I'll call you on your cell if I need your help!"

"House, wait, wait! Wait a minute! You want to do this right, don't you?" Wilson asked, grabbing House's arm.

"What are you talking about?"

"It will be easier to stop the wedding if you wait until the right moment. When the minister says, _'If any man can show just cause, why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him speak now, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace, _that's when you have to say, 'I object!'"

"I don't have time for this!" House yanked his arm away from Wilson.

"Listen to me! You love Cameron, don't you?", Wilson asked, as he stepped closer and closer to House.  
"Yes."

"And you want to hold her?"  
"Yes."

"And please her?" Wilson said, standing nose to nose with House.  
"Yes."

"Then you've got to do this right. Girls love romance, especially a girl like Cameron. After all, she waited in a tower for years for her true love to come and rescue her! You'll sweep her off her feet!" Wilson said enthusiastically.

"All right! All right. I'll do it! So when does the guy say the line?" House asked, the tapping of his cane signaling his renewed impatience.

"Let's see where they are in the service now."  
House reached for the door.  
"Don't open it, House. You don't want to draw any attention to yourself just yet.  
Let's listen through the window."

House looked up at arched window at the top of the nine-foot door.

"There's no way we can reach that, Wilson."

Wilson stacked two chairs at the foot of the door.  
"Where there's a will, there's a way …"

"I know, I know … and you have a way. Get up there then!"  
"Me? Why me?" Wilson said, eyeing the wobbly chairs. "She's your girlfriend!"

"Duh … I'm a cripple, remember?" House asked sarcastically. "Get climbing!"

Wilson perched on top of the upper chair as he leaned precariously towards the window.

"_And so by the power vested in me …"_

"What do you see?"  
"Vogler has the whole hospital in there."

"_I now pronounce you husband and wife …"_

"They're at the altar."

"_King and Queen …"_

"Uh-oh!

"Uh-oh?"

"He already said it."  
"Oh, for the love of Pete! Get down from there, you idiot! If you'd just let me go in when I wanted to … oh never mind! Go, go get Cuddy and Howe!"

House yanked the door open and limped with determination down the aisle  
"I object!" he shouted.

The congregation gasped. A deathly silence settled over the chapel. All eyes were locked on House.

"House?" Cameron said as she and Vogler watched his approach.

"What do you want now, House? I gave you back your stinky swamp. Now run along and go play with your slimy water, or whatever it is you do out there all by yourself," Vogler sneered.

"Very funny Vogler. But you know _exactly_ what I do at CRIPPLED, don't you?  
That's why you couldn't wait to shut me down."

The congregation was aghast at his impudence.  
House looked around the buzzing crowd and smiled a maniacal smile.

"Hi, everyone! Are you having a good time?  
It's been a while since I've been here. Did ya miss me?  
Nice chapel … it's king-sized, just like you! Right, Vogler?"

Cameron watched House, unsure of his intentions. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly.

"Really, it's bad enough that you're alive when no one wants you, but to show up uninvited to a wedding? That's just plain rude." Vogler added in a condescending voice.

House ignored him.  
"Allison! I need to talk to you."

Cameron stood with her hands on her hips and impatiently said,  
"So _now_ you want to talk? It's a little late for that, so if you'll excuse me …"

"You can't marry him," House pleaded, standing on the steps beneath Cameron.  
"And why not?" she asked indignantly.

"Because he's just marrying you so he can be king."

"That's outrageous! Allison, don't listen to him!" Vogler sputtered.

"He's_ not_ your true love …" House implored, gazing deeply into Cameron's eyes.  
"And what do you know about true love?" countered Cameron.

"Well, I … uh … I mean …" House looked bashfully at his feet, afraid to say the words Cameron had been longing to hear.

"Oh this is precious! The cripple has fallen in love with the Princess!  
Oh, good Lord!" Vogler roared with laughter as Nurse Brenda urged the congregation to join in.

"The Cripple loves the Princess! The Cripple loves the Princess!", came the mocking chant from the crowd.

"House … Greg … is this true?" Cameron said, lifting his chin with one finger, as she smiled lovingly at House.

"Who cares? It's preposterous!" Vogler shouted, before softening his demeanor as he turned to Cameron.

"Allison, my love … we're but a kiss away from our 'happily ever after'. Now kiss me! Mmmm!" he said, lowering his puckered lips towards hers for a kiss.

Cameron dodged his kiss and then watched out the window as the last sliver of the afternoon sun slipped beneath the horizon.

"_By night one way, by day another …"_ she whispered.

Cameron looked at House and shyly said,

"_This_ is what I wanted to show you before …"

**_...daisyb10_**


	18. Love's True Form

_**Chapter 18: Love's True Form**_

"_By night one way, by day another …"_

A gentle gust of wind began to swirl at Cameron's feet.  
As it rose, it enveloped her body in a cloak of fairy dust and small twinkling lights.

And then it vanished, just as quickly as it came.

House watched in awe as the fairy dust settled.  
At first his beautiful Cameron appeared unharmed, but then he noticed her leaning awkwardly towards her left side, a metal crutch grasped firmly in her hand. His eyes traveled the length of the crutch, observing her delicate left foot, still clad in its wedding slipper, peeking out from under the hem of her gown at an odd angle.

Their eyes met …  
House searching hers for answers …  
Cameron searching his for acceptance.

"Congenital hip dysplasia?" he asked quietly.  
"Yes," she whispered.

"Well. That explains a lot," he said with a hint of a smile, which Cameron quickly returned, reassured of his love.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cameron fumed, as Lord Vogler lifted her skirt with the tip of his ceremonial sword.

The congregation gasped in horror at the site of her crippled leg.  
Vogler shrieked and sheathed his sword, shielding his eyes until her leg was covered once more.

"Ugh! You're a cripple!" he yelled. "You're disgusting! Guards! Guards!"  
Vogler's security guards swarmed the chancel.  
"I order you to get_ that_ out of my sight! Now!" he commanded, pointing at Cameron.  
"And while you're at it, get that other cripple, too! Get them! Get them both!"

Cameron was no match for the massive security guards who pinned her arms behind her back. She struggled valiantly, but to no avail.  
"No, No. Let go of me! House!" she screamed.

"Wilson, I need help! Hurry!" were the only words House managed to utter before Vogler's henchmen attacked,  
sending his cell phone crashing to the floor.

He fought back fiercely with his fists and cane. The guards fell to the floor, one after another.

A right jab to the chest.  
An upper cut to the chin.  
A sharp poke to the groin.  
A blow to the shins.

But as hard as he tried, he was soon overcome by the sheer force of his attackers.

Vogler ranted and raved at the top of his lungs as he paced back and forth across the altar. He stopped before a pedestal where his crown sat waiting, sparkling brilliantly atop a royal blue velvet pillow trimmed with a luxurious golden cord.

"This hocus-pocus alters nothing," he shouted, placing the bejeweled crown on his head.  
"This marriage is binding, and that makes me King! See? See?" he said, pointing to the crown as he approached House.

"Let go of me, you morons!" House growled, struggling to get free. "Allison! Arrgh!"

"I'll make you regret the day we met. I'll see you drawn and quartered!" Vogler sneered menacingly. "You'll beg for death to save you!"

"No, don't hurt him. House!" cried Cameron.

"And as for you, my wife…" Vogler spun around, drawing his sword once more, pressing its gleaming tip upward beneath Cameron's chin.

"I'll have you locked back in the tower of _Dewey Screwem_ for the rest of your days!"

Vogler pumped his arms in the air as he faced the crowd.  
"I'm King!, I'm King!" was his jubilant cry.  
"I will have order! I will have perfection! I will have …" Vogler stopped, alarmed by the sound of booted feet kicking against the chapel door.

"**FBI ! FREEZE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!**

"**PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! NOW!**

"**AND THAT INCLUDES YOU, LORD VOGLER!**

"_It's_ _King Vogler_, to you commoners," Vogler replied defiantly, as he dropped his sword and complied with the order.

"Your reign of terror is over, Vogler!"  
Wilson ran with the FBI agents down the aisle followed closely by Cuddy and Howe. "House, Cameron, are you all right?"

Cameron glared at her captors upon her release, and limped over to House.  
"That was good timing, Wilson. Thanks," House said, slipping a protective arm around Cameron's shoulder.

"I can't take all the credit. Howe brought in the FBI"  
House's "Thanks Doogie", brought a brief smile to his old friend's face.

"Ha! It's _The Three Stooges_ – Cuddy, Wilson and Howe!" Vogler laughed.  
"The perfect pawns for my perfect plan!"

"I'm nobody's pawn, Vogler! No one besmirches my reputation and gets away with it! You pushed me too far this time!"  
Wilson asserted, with fire in his eyes.

Cuddy insinuated herself between Wilson and Vogler.  
"And how _dare_ you sabotage Dr. Cameron's research after all the years I spent protecting her and nurturing her talent?"  
Cuddy seethed, as she repeatedly poked Vogler in the chest with her well-manicured fingernail.

"I'll rip you apart and leave you to rot like carrion festering in the noonday sun," she snarled.  
"There's a reason they call me _The Dragon Queen_, Vogler! And no one, _but no one_, hurts the man I love!"

"OWWWW!" Vogler howled, as Cuddy tromped on his instep with her stiletto heel. "That's assault! Arrest her!" he demanded.

"I didn't see anything, did you?" the Chief asked, surveying his men, who all shook their heads.

"That's some feisty girl you've got there, Wilson!" House said, giving Cuddy a thumbs up.  
"She's one in a million," Wilson said with pride, as he dragged Cuddy away from Vogler.

"Okay, okay. Let's get this show on the road. 'Cuff him!" the Chief ordered.

"Wait! I'm Stacy Warner. Lord Vogler's …"  
"King Vogler's …" hissed Vogler, interrupting the attractive brunette.

"King Vogler's attorney. What are the charges against my client?" she demanded.

"How much time do you have, lady?"  
Chief Clancy sighed wearily, as he flipped through sheet after sheet in his notepad.

"Let's see … we've got embezzlement, fraud, insider trading, mischief, assault, battery, racketeering and I also have a list of impending charges from FDA and the Securities Commission. Their agents are at headquarters now, awaiting your client's arrest. Now 'cuff him boys and read him his rights!"

"No! That's preposterous! I'm innocent I tell you!" cried Vogler.  
As the Feds approached, Vogler grabbed Stacy around the throat and backed down the aisle using her as a human shield.

"I'd advise you to let me go immediately," Stacy hissed.  
"Why?" Vogler asked. "Consider this payback for that exorbitant retainer I pay you each year."

"You doctors and nurses always think you're so clever." Vogler laughed at his staff in the congregation. "But I fooled you all, including House!"

House glared at Vogler as he drew Cameron close.  
"What do you mean, Vogler? How did you fool me?"

"You think you got your precious little CRIPPLED back, don't you?" Vogler paused and smirked. "Well actually, you _did _get a little cripple," he said, leering at Cameron, "but not the one you wanted. The deed's a fake!" he chortled.

"Ha! That's what you think, Lord Vogler … and don't try any of that King crap with me!"

"Marjorie?" Vogler muttered, staring at his mousey secretary.

"You chose the wrong victim when you tortured Pharmacist."  
Marjorie smiled as reached for Pharmacist's hand.

"When Ms. Warner gave me the bogus deed for you to sign, I _knew_ I had a way to make you pay for everything you put my Pharmie through! I gave the deed to his brother, Lawyer, and voila … I had a legal, binding deed for CRIPPLED in no time!"

"And guess which deed you signed?" Marjorie asked, with a satisfied grin on her face.

Vogler's nostrils flared with fury. "MARJORIE!"

"Aw, quit 'yer bitchin', Lord Vogler. No one's listening!" Marjorie retorted, dismissing Vogler with a wave of her hand.  
"Dr. House, CRIPPLED is yours!"

"Enough!" Vogler shouted, backing closer to the chapel door.  
"Don't let him get away, men!" Clancy ordered, as his agents ran down the aisle.

Vogler pushed Stacy into the charging Feds, who tumbled like dominoes on top of the stunned attorney.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! _NEVER!"_

oOoOo

"**STOP OR WE'LL SHOOT!"**

The Feds ran down the corridor with Cuddy, Wilson and Howe close behind, as House and Cameron struggled to follow.  
They rounded the corner and spotted Vogler at the far end of the hall, punching a code into a keypad on the wall.

Suddenly he disappeared.

"Damn!"  
Chief Clancy banged his fist in anger on the secret panel.  
"There's a private elevator behind this door. Does anyone know where it goes?"

"I do," said Howe. "It goes to the 10th floor of _The King's Tower_. I've had a few meetings with Vogler up there."

"Good!" said Clancy. "I want ten men to take the stairs in case Vogler decides to double back, and the rest of you, come with me!"

"What's the scoop, Wilson?" House asked, as he and Cameron caught up with their friends.

"Vogler's headed for his penthouse."  
"Let's go!" House frantically pushed the "up" button on the elevator control panel.

"Wait! He could be dangerous. Why don't we let the FBI handle this? I don't want anything to happen to you," Cameron pleaded with House.

"We have to go, Princess. Vogler tried to destroy all of our lives in one way or another. We can't stop now when we've come this far," House said, softly stroking her cheek with his finger.

"We'll take care of each other, I promise."

oOoOo

"Get me my helicopter, stat!"  
"That's right! I want you to land on top of _The King's Tower_, on my private helipad. How long will you be?"  
"Two minutes?"  
"Make that one and there will be a bonus in it for you!"

Vogler dashed through the suite, dodging linen draped tables set with the finest crystal and silverware, in preparation for the royal wedding reception.

He grabbed his wallet and passport from a bureau drawer, and peered anxiously through the window.

"**FREEZE VOGLER! WE'VE GOT YOU NOW!"**

"**THE EXITS ARE BLOCKED"  
"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE!"**

"Oh I can't, can't I?" Vogler smirked, as FBI agents poured into the room from the stairwell and the elevator.

A second set of elevator doors opened and House, Cameron, Wilson, Cuddy and Howe stepped out.

"Goodie, Goodie Gumdrops! Now everyone's here!"  
Vogler glanced out the window and spotted his helicopter approaching from the south.

"Well I'm afraid I'll have to be going soon," Vogler smiled, as he pulled a gun from his pocket. "It's been very nice meeting all of you, but _do not_ try to stop me."

Vogler reached for the door to his rooftop helipad, but was distracted when he noticed something amiss with the royal wedding cake.

"What's this, my darling wife?" Vogler asked, as he plucked "his" figurine from the top of the cake.

House snorted loudly when he saw Cameron's handiwork.

"Are you mocking me, Princess?" Vogler asked very quietly.  
"I didn't feel the original portrayed you in an accurate light," Cameron said defiantly.

"And how did you plan to explain this betrayal at our wedding reception?"  
House shielded Cameron as Vogler began to wave his gun erratically about the room.

"HOW DARE YOU HUMILIATE ME!" Vogler roared, taking a violent swipe at the cake with his massive hand.

The ten-tiered cake toppled on contact.  
The hardwood floor was instantly covered with a thick layer of cake crumbs, icing and fondant roses.

"DAMN YOU, PRINCESS! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!"

Vogler looked to the ceiling, as he heard the helicopter land on the roof.  
"But alas, I must bid you farewell …" he said, with a wave.

"STOP HIM!" ordered Chief Clancy.

As the agents neared, Vogler lunged quickly for the door. His foot sunk into the mucky mound of cake and icing and shot out from under him, sending Vogler flying through the air towards the window.

The moment his massive bulk hit the glass, the window shattered into a million pieces.

Time froze as Vogler stared at his pursuers with terror in his eyes.

"**NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO****OOOOOOOOOO****OOOOOOO****OOOOOOOO****"  
**he cried, as he fell backwards through the window. He tumbled and flailed his way down through the sky until he finally stopped, ten floors below.

As everyone stared in horror as they absorbed Vogler's fate, House limped to window and peered over the edge.

"Well, that takes the cake!" he said with a smirk, before making his way back to Cameron

Chief Clancy took one final look around the room, then paused to shake everyone's hand. "C'mon men, our work here is done.  
Lord Vogler's just saved the taxpayers one heck of a lot of money!"

"Good luck, folks. Thanks for all your help. We'll be in touch."

oOoOo

"You're free, Princess! You never have to worry about Vogler again," Wilson said, as he watched Cameron and Cuddy embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Allison, I had no idea," Cuddy said tearfully.

"There was no way you could have known, Lisa, and you took good care of me. I'll always be grateful to you for that. And now, if Greg is willing, we can continue our Lupus research together at CRIPPLED," Cameron said, looking at House hopefully.

"I'd like that," House said quietly, as he stood behind Wilson.  
"Go ahead, House." Wilson urged, giving House a gentle push towards Cameron.

"Uh, Allison?"  
"Yes, Greg?"

House stammered awkwardly, the smiled shyly at Cameron, "I … I love you."

"Really?" she whispered.

"Really, really," he murmured.

"I love you too." Cameron said softly as their lips met for their very first kiss.  
"Awww!" Cuddy sighed.

House swept Cameron into his arms as their kiss deepened.  
Once again, a gentle gust of wind began to swirl at Cameron's feet. As it rose, it enveloped her body in a cloak of fairy dust and small twinkling lights.

The wind intensified, lifting Cameron up off her feet, through House's arms, as she rose higher and higher, spinning slowly in the air. A beam of light shone from her left foot, then another from her right. Her hands were next, then suddenly a golden ray of sunshine enveloped her body. She looked to the heavens, as she heard these words.

"_Until you find true love's first kiss and then take love's true form"  
"Take love's true form…"  
"Take love's true form ..."  
"Take love's true form ..."_

House shielded his eyes as the room flooded with light. The beams ricocheted off every surface, diffusing rapidly, exploding violently. Windows shattered throughout the penthouse as the shimmering vortex lowered Cameron gently to the floor.  
And then it vanished, just as it came. In silence.

"Duh … there was already a broken window you could have used," snarked a terrified House as he limped to Cameron's side.

"Allison, Allison. Are you all right?" House asked anxiously.

Cameron smoothed her dress as House and Wilson helped her to her feet, then looked at her left arm with dismay.  
She still had her crutch.  
She was still a cripple.

"Well yes. But I don't understand," she said, as her hand brushed her disfigured left leg. "I'm supposed to be beautiful."

House's face softened into a gentle smile. His azure eyes shone with love as he spoke without reservation.

"But you ARE beautiful," he said softly, then they kissed once more.

"I was hoping for a happy ending …" Wilson said contentedly, as he gave his darling Lisa a long tender kiss.

oOoOo

_Princess Allison, I give you this ring, as a token of my love, and a symbol of our marriage. I vow to be loving, faithful and loyal to you, for as long as we both shall live. Whatever life may bring, I will always love you._

_Gregory, I give you this ring, as a token of my love, and a symbol of our marriage. I vow to be loving, faithful and loyal to you, for as long as we both shall live. Whatever life may bring, I will always love you._

_By the power vested in me by Kingdom of Princeton-Plainsboro, it is my honour to pronounce you … husband and wife. _

_You may now kiss your bride …_

"With pleasure," murmured House, as he carefully lifted Cameron's veil up over her Princess tiara, then smoothed it into place.

"I love you," he said, gathering Cameron into his arms, before brushing her lips softly with his own. Overcome with desire, their lips parted tentatively, their tongues met briefly, until the sound of the judge's subtle "Ahem …" brought them back to reality.

As they slowly ended their kiss, applause and cheers filled the air.  
When the organist broke into a joyful rendition of "I'm A Believer", their guests danced and swayed to the music.

_I thought love was only true in fairy tales,  
Meant for someone else and not for me,  
Love was out to get me … that's the way it seemed,  
Disappointment haunted all my dreams._

Their wedding day had been glorious.

The sun shone brightly and their friends celebrated joyfully on the banks of the Plainsboro Marsh as House and Cameron watched the festivities beneath an archway adorned with wild ferns and orchids.

They stood hand-in-hand, lost in each others eyes.  
House caressed Cameron's face with his long, sensuous fingers.  
Every stroke heightened her desire for him. Every touch left him wanting more.

He smiled at her and wordless motioned to his motorcycle that stood glistening in afternoon sun in front of the CRIPPLED lab.

"Shall we?" he asked.  
"I can't wait," she replied breathlessly.

_And then I saw her face  
Now I'm a believer  
And not a trace  
Of doubt in my mind_

They were showered with rose petals as they walked down the aisle. Cameron nudged House gently, when she noticed Wilson and Cuddy locked in a passionate embrace beneath a weeping willow.

They changed their clothes quickly, then returned outside.  
House honked the horn on his motorcycle to draw everyone's attention.

"Well folks, we're on our way, because … well, actually … I can't wait to …"  
"House!' Cameron scolded, slapping House playfully on the wrist.  
"Owww! Cripple here … that's hurts!"  
Cameron looked at her own leg and raised one eyebrow as she smiled playfully at House.

Once he was sure Cameron was safely aboard, House joined her on his motorcycle.  
"Ladies, it's time to throw my bridal bouquet!"

Howe and Wilson stood at the sidelines, doubled over with laughter as they watched Cindy Palmer and Marjorie jostling each other when Cameron lobbed her flowers into the air.

All eyes turned skyward as the bouquet of daisies floated down towards the dozens of outstretched hands.

"Get out of my way!" shouted Cindy, bumping Marjorie with her hip.  
"No. It's mine!" shouted Marjorie. "I want to marry Pharmie!"

Victory was so close, they could taste it!

oOoOo

"Good catch!" Wilson grinned, sliding his hands around Cuddy's waist.  
"The Dragon Lady _always_ gets what she wants," she purred, crushing her ruby red lips against Wilson's for a blistering kiss, whilst dangling the bouquet behind his back.

_I'm in love_  
_Ooh-aah_  
_I'm a believer _  
_I couldn't leave her if I tried._

"Happy?" House asked.  
"Delirious," replied Cameron.  
"Shall we ride off into the sunset, Princess Doctor Mrs. Allison Cameron-House?"  
"Nothing would make me happier."

Cameron rested her head on House's shoulder as she waved to their friends.

House started the engine and pulled away slowly from CRIPPLED,

She was mesmerized by the beauty of the iridescent hues that filled the dusky sky. Cameron smiled as she wrapped her arms tightly around House's waist.

_I will never fear sunsets again …_

oOoOo

The fairy tale book glowed softly on House's bed as the newlywed's rode off into the sunset.  
When it closed itself, a sprinkle of fairy dust settled on its cover.

_**"And They Lived At CRIPPLED, Happily Ever After"**_

**The End**


End file.
